


Over Their Dead Bodies

by annawritesthings



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, F/M, M.E.!Clarke, Multi, Murder Mystery, Pathologists, cop!bellamy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2018-12-07 08:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11619876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annawritesthings/pseuds/annawritesthings
Summary: Bellamy Blake is the detective in charge of a team investigating the murder of a young woman; Clarke Griffin is the medical examiner working at the precinct and to say the two were not fond of each other would be putting it lightly. The pressure of murder investigation is sure to skew some judgements but nothing can blur that fine line between love and hate, can it?(also on ff.net [achurst] but might get smutty later on so posting here for safety)





	1. Chapter 1

The continual ringing was beginning to drive him mad. He should have been sound asleep but instead he was awake and irritable. Cursing whoever was calling him – it was 5am for fuck’s sake – he grabbed his phone from the bedside table and brought it to his ear.

‘Blake here’, he said, voice gruff with sleep.

The voice at the other end of the line spoke quickly, describing the situation which would completely end Bellamy’s hope of a full night of sleep. He had been stupid to think that the world would possibly allow him three quiet night’s in a row.

‘I’ll be there in 15,’ Bellamy promised, ending the call and sitting up. Running his hands through his bedhead, he cursed again before flipping his duvet back and planting his feet on the cold, carpeted floor. Reaching into the drawer of his bedside table, Bellamy removed a small can of deodorant. After a quick spritz under each arm, the can was back in the drawer and Bellamy was reaching for a clean shirt – luckily, he had learned to prepare for midnight summons and had a shirt on the back of his chair.

‘Shit, last clean shirt,’ Bellamy noted, obviously he wasn’t as prepared as he’d thought. Slipping the shirt on over his toned arms Bellamy promised himself that he’d do the washing once he returned from the precinct.  
Ten minutes after being awoken by the phone call and Bellamy was on his way out of the apartment, thermos of strong, hot coffee in hand. He paused only to holster his gun and grab his bomber jacket before shutting off the light and proceeding out of the door.

* * *

  
Pulling up at the kerb, Bellamy stepped out of his cruiser and slammed the door; the sound obnoxiously loud in the still night. Thermos in one hand and badge in the other, he moved towards the yellow police tape. Flashing his badge at the junior officer manning the boundary, he ducked under the yellow line and continued towards the scene.

Having spotted his team, Bellamy shouted out a greeting at the other officers, ‘Morning Miller, Reyes, Collins. Anything to report?’

‘A banging headache and some serious eyebags,’ Reyes drawled, small strands of her dark hair escaping from her ponytail into her eyes. Raven Reyes was the single female on Bellamy’s small team; tough as nails and quick as a whip, she had a certain talent for keeping her male colleagues in line.

Bellamy rolled his eyes. ‘Funny Reyes,’ he said, ‘but not particularly helpful.’

‘White female, no ID but still lots of cash in her purse so we can rule out robbery,’ said Collins. Unlike his fellow officers, Collins (first name Finn) appeared to be awake and not at all as if he was cursing his career choice. Although, Bellamy thought, he’d have been more concerned if he ever witnessed a look of hatred on the younger man’s face. Finn was perpetually happy and occasionally (well, more than occasionally) it pissed Bellamy off.

‘Yeah, we can only see a single stab wound to the chest. That, combined with the lack of theft, suggests it probably not just a random street crime,’ Miller added. Simple and straight to the point, as always. Bellamy always appreciated this straightforward attitude during days like these

Taking a mouthful of his, now, tepid coffee, Bellamy quietly took in the scene. The female victim was laying on her front, right at the edge of a circle of street light, a small pool of blood spilled out from underneath her. The blood had already begun to seep into the porous concrete below and, Bellamy knew, it would be a bitch to remove the stain. One of the woman’s arms was thrown up toward her face, palm flat against the pavement. Her other arm was partially underneath her abdomen, two small keys peeking out from her clenched fist. Bellamy crouched down slowly, using his flashlight to get a better look at the women’s keys.

‘Is that blood?’ he asked, directing his gaze to the smaller of the two keys.

‘Looks like it, boss,’ said Collins. ‘We’ll get it swabbed and back to the lab techs once Raven has taken all the scene photos.’

Easing himself back to his feet, Bellamy stepped back, allowing Reyes to get trigger happy with the camera.

Shortly later, the distinct click-clack of a pair of heels reached the team - a sure sign that the medical examiner had arrived. Predictably, Clarke Griffin looked good. Well, Bellamy allowed, she looked good considering the 5am start. It did make him feel slightly better that she evidently relied on caffeine too, judging by the large, steaming cup in her left hand. It made her seem a little less perfect; a little less like a princess.

‘Morning everyone,’ Clarke said. Raven and Finn smiled at her in response; Miller gave a small wave; Bellamy just nodded shortly. He wasn’t particularly trying to be rude, but it was common knowledge that he and the princess didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye, and he really didn’t want to start a fight before the sun had even risen. Giving a small inclination toward the victim, Clarke continued, ‘Such a shame, she looks young.’

‘Hopefully we’ll find out soon enough,’ Miller replied. ‘We’ve got no ID yet so we’ll have to run fingerprints and hope that she’s on the system.’

Placing her coffee mug down – carefully outside of the immediate crime area – Clarke snapped on a pair of blue latex gloves and did a preliminary exam; taking liver temperature, removing the keys from the victim’s clenched fist before bagging the women’s hands and feet. She carefully swabbed the blood on the smaller key and keyring before dropping them into the evidence bag Finn held out towards her.

Removing her gloves, she turned to Bellamy, ‘I would say, based on the preliminary exam, this woman died between 11pm and 1am last night. I’ve taken swabs from the keys and will get her more thoroughly examined back in the lab. If we’re all done here I’d like to get her back asap.’

Bellamy quickly glanced around his team, making sure that their various tasks were complete and it was time to move the body. Miller and Collins nodded.

‘I’m all done here,’ said Raven.

‘Right, Monty, Jasper, you can get her in the van now please,’ Clarke said, directing her eyes to the two young labs techs stationed just outside the crime scene tape.

The pair quickly ducked under the tape and carefully rolled the body onto a plastic sheet and into a body bag. As the women’s face was exposed Bellamy sighed, she was younger than he had originally thought. 18, or maybe 19, at the most. He was going to need a lot more coffee to get through this one.

Monty grasped the zipper and drew it up, hiding the women’s face from the eyes of the public who had begun gathering beyond the line of police tape. Jasper and Monty grasped the two ends of the bag and carefully carried it towards their van.

‘We’ll see you guys back at the precinct,’ Clarke shouted as she followed the two lab techs away from the scene.

Bellamy turned back towards his team and doled out the most important tasks, ‘Collins and Reyes, you two check the nearby bins and drains, see if you can come home with the murder weapon. Hopefully it was dumped somewhere near here and if it has prints on it, it could be golden. Miller, you’re with me. We’ll go and see how much CCTV footage we can track down – starting with those two cameras,’ he said, gesturing broadly to the two cameras attached to the outside of the store on the opposite side of the street, directly across from the alley the were currently standing in. ‘Everyone regroup back at base this afternoon for a progress update.’

The three officers nodded. Raven and Finn moved further down the alley, towards a large blue dumpster drawing on gloves in preparation for their dirty work. Nathan moved to Bellamy’s side and the pair headed in the opposite direction, targeting the store across the street. Miller paused briefly to lift the crime scene tape for his senior colleague before the two made their way through the small crowd – ignoring the swirling questions thrown at them from both sides.

* * *

  
The shops across the road hadn’t yet opened; an unsurprising fact given that the sun was yet to rise. Luckily for the officers the owner of the orange fronted shop (which appeared to operate as a newsagents and shop with a small key cutting business on the side) live above his workplace and had been roused by the activity in the alley. Unfortunately, the rude awakening meant that the man wasn’t feeling particularly gracious, glowering at Nathan and Bellamy as they explained the situation. Well – Bellamy allowed – Miller explained the situation as he tried not to glare back at the man. Even after two large coffees, Bellamy was not the most polite man in the morning.

‘Did you see or hear anything between 11pm last night and 1am this morning?’ Nathan asked as the man copied the CCTV tapes onto a couple of spare discs.

‘I heard a bit of shouting about midnight,’ the man replied. ‘I even poked my head out of the window to tell them to keep it down but, you know, that’s pretty standard stuff around here. There’s a couple of clubs and pubs just around the corner so I’m used to rowdy crowds.’

The two officers nodded knowingly, they had been called to this area several times before to deal with some anti-social drinkers and club goers. Finishing up their routine questions, the two men headed for the door; newly burned discs of CCTV footage in hand.

Slamming the door of his car, Bellamy noticed the time on the dashboard: 6.35am.

‘This is going to be a fucking long day, isn’t it?’ he said.

Miller just sighed in response as Bellamy put the car in gear and pulled away from the crime scene.

* * *

  
Arriving back at the precinct, Bellamy handed half of the CCTV to Nathan as they went their separate ways to their own desks. Reyes and Collins had still been trawling through the rubbish bins when Bellamy and Nathan had driven away from the scene so their desks were still empty. With half of the team still out, the office was quiet – the ideal working conditions for both Bellamy and Miller.

Finishing his cup of coffee – his fifth of the morning, he realised – Bellamy sat back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head, wincing slightly when his right elbow cracked distinctly. So far he’d managed to make it through less than half of his fraction of the CCTV footage but already his eyes were starting to blur and there was a crick forming in the back of his neck. Raven and Finn has returned from their scavenger hunt in the rubbish bins – unfortunately, without any trace of a weapon – and so the office was now filled with noise.

The search for the name of the women now residing in their morgue had also been fruitless thus far. Jasper had brought them a sheet of fingerprints to run through the database. Miller had scanned the into the system as soon as the sheet had arrived but so far the database hadn’t returned any hits. That just about summed up Bellamy’s day so far; lots of work for not much return. Sighing, Bellamy rolled back his chair and stood up from his desk.  
‘I’m going to head downstairs and see if Griffin has anything more to tell us yet. God knows we need something more to work with,’ Bellamy said, dragging his hand roughly through his already dishevelled hair.

‘I’ll come down with you,’ said Finn, either missing or choosing to ignore the dramatic eye roll Raven shot his way. Bellamy liked Finn – he really did – but the younger man was known for coming on too strong and it had caused some friction between the officer and the princess M.E. downstairs. Not that friction between Dr Griffin and other people was unusual, the blonde was definitely headstrong and feisty, but something rubbed him the wrong way about the way Collins interacted with Clarke.

Bellamy turned and strode through the double doors towards the lift, not bothering to check if Finn had followed him.

* * *

  
The ping of the elevator alerted Clarke to the two officers presence even before the deep voices reached her ears. It sounded like the two were having a terse conversation, both voices slightly raised. Clarke wondered what could have gotten the normally collected Detective Blake into such a mood.

Her silent question was immediately answered when both men appeared through the lab door – Clarke’s heart sunk.

‘Hi Clarke!’ said Finn, possibly attempting to pre-empt the normally feisty Detective/M.E. pairing. ‘You’re looking lovely today.’

Clarke growled lowly as Bellamy quickly spoke over the younger man, ’please tell me you have something.’

This day was not going his way and, just to top it off, Collins had tried to start a conversation about Dr Griffin in the lift. A conversation Bellamy really didn’t want to have and probably bordered on inappropriate for the workplace. Sometimes Finn really could be a fucking wanker. He knew – in fact everyone except Collins himself knew – that Dr Griffin was not even mildly interested in Finn. Unfortunately, this fact hadn’t done anything to dampen the officer’s optimism.

‘Bellamy,’ Clarke sighed, gloved hands on hips, ‘I’ve only had this body back here for an hour. I know I’m good but even you can’t expect me to perform miracles?’ Gently blowing the wispy hairs from her face she continued, ‘I can tell you that the stab wound killed her – although even you could have figured that one out – and she had a couple of defensive wounds on both of her palms. There was no evidence of sexual assault, which I suppose is some sort of positive, and we managed to retrieve a small sample of what looks like skin from under her nails. Those samples have been sent to Monty and Jasper along with some swabs I took. Unfortunately, until I’ve got the results from those findings back I’ve got nothing more to tell you.’

During her little speech (a short speech by Clarke’s standards) her bright blue eyes had not left Bellamy’s copper ones. This was not an unusual tactic of the M.E.; Bellamy always got all of the attention whenever he brought Finn to the pathology lab. It wasn’t that Clarke didn’t like Finn, it was that she really didn’t like him. It was a dislike that started when she first met the officer – a dislike that emanated from a gut feeling rather than an actual event. Bellamy understood that kind of dislike well – although, luckily, not directed at anyone he had to work with.

Hoping to make the rest of the debrief less stressful, he turned to Collins and asked him to wait outside. He and Dr ‘Princess’ Griffin may not always see eye-to-eye, but it was nothing like the uncomfortable tension between Finn and Clarke. That relationship was enough to make senior officers uncomfortable.

Turning himself back to face Clarke, Bellamy narrowed his eyes into his famous glare. This glare work on everyone, toughened criminals and hardened cops alike and once - Bellamy swears - it even worked on a police dog but the petite, blonde M.E. in front of him was unaffected. In fact, she seemed amused at his attempt to intimidate her, raising her eyebrows and smirking back at him. Remembering that she was medically trained and in possession of several scalpels, Bellamy backed down. Not that he was even slightly scared. Definitely not scared of someone more than a head smaller than himself.

‘Glaring at me won’t help me run tests any faster, Blake.’

‘Fine,’ Bellamy bit out, ‘just page me when you know something okay, Princess?’ Maybe using her hated nickname was a mistake, but Bellamy just wanted that stupid smirk off of her face.

‘Always a pleasure, Detective Blake,’ her voice sing-songed at him as he left the room. He could tell that her stupid smirk was still present. Bellamy made sure to slam the door hard behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

‘Hey Monty! Hi Jasper!’ Clarke greeted the two young lab technicians as she entered their section of the pathology lab. Technically, the whole lab was ‘hers’ (well, it all belonged to the city but she was the head medical examiner) however Clarke always thought of this part of the lab as theirs. No matter what the sign on the door said. ‘You got anything good to tell me yet?’

Monty raised his head from the microscope, safety goggles tucked in the pocket of his lab coat. Monty always complained about wearing them and so, when it was not a necessity, they would nowhere near his face. ‘Blood results from the victim have come back. They seem to be linked to a closed young offender file, but have also brought back a protected computer file with them which is less usual,’ he said. ‘Obviously we can’t access the files down here but the guys upstairs can get a warrant sorted I’m sure.’

‘And if they can’t get a warrant I’m sure Raven could just hack the file,’ added Jasper, appearing through the door from the freezer. Unlike Monty, Jasper was rarely seen without his safety goggles. Currently they were buried in his mop of sandy hair; only the very edges of the goggles were visible from where Clarke stood. ‘I could head up and ask her if you’d like.’

Clarke smiled softly. She knew that Jasper thought very highly of the ‘badass’ (Jasper’s word, not hers) officer upstairs; not that he’d ever do anything about it.

‘That’s okay Jas, I’ll go up now and tell Detective Blake what you’ve found.’

As much as it would be interesting to send Jasper up to talk to Raven – Clarke predicted that he would just stand and ramble without passing any information onto the officer – it would be much more efficient if she went to see the detectives instead. ‘Anything else I need to tell the team?’

‘Yep!’ said Jasper. ‘The skin sample you collected from under the victim’s fingernails is a match to an unknown male. Not on our system so hasn’t got a criminal history. The sample will help when they bring in a suspect though, at least we have something to match to.’

‘But,’ Monty chimed in, ‘the blood sample you swabbed from the key doesn’t match the victim’s blood or the skin sample. It is from another unknown male too; again, without a match on our system. Suggests there are two people involved, although might not be, one might be innocent or,’ Clarke cleared her throat, halting Monty’s active imagination, ‘but I suppose the officers upstairs with figure that out eh?’

Clarke laughed at Monty’s sheepish expression. The young technician loved to theorise about cases, putting evidence together in some sort of order, logical to him – Jasper usually managed to follow along; Clarke occasionally understood – but not to a single one of the detectives. It was something which made Monty a fantastic technician but could result in whole days being wasted if Clarke allowed him to get carried away.

‘I’d better go and update Bellamy and the others on the case then. Thanks guys, you’re the best!’

‘We know!’ Jasper and Monty shouted after her as she left the lab.

Clarke reached the elevator and, stifling her laugh, pressed the button for the offices above. She thanks her stars every day that she got to work with Monty and Jasper; they certainly made coming to work every day easier. The lift door’s closed and Clarke took a deep breath. Leaving the safety of her lab was a bit like jumping into the heart of a lion’s den. 

* * *

The elevator slowed to a halt and Clarke took another deep breath before stepping out the opening doors, proceeding to walk straight into Detective Blake – spilling his, luckily tepid, coffee over both of them.

‘Smoothly done there, Princess,’ Bellamy said, hissing through his clenched teeth.

‘I try my best,’ Clarke replied bitingly. ‘I am sorry though, Detective.’

Bellamy turned away and began walking back towards his desk. Clarke followed him, peeling the front of her shirt away from where it clung wetly to her body – she did not notice that Finn had not blinked since the coffee had been spilt on her.

‘You owe me a coffee and a new shirt, Griffin,’ Bellamy growled. ‘Hopefully you have something important to tell us?’

Reaching his desk he rooted in the bottom of his drawer, withdrawing a slightly crumpled, but still wearable t-shirt. Slipping his sodden shirt over his head, Bellamy dumped it unceremoniously on the floor before pulling the new t-shirt over his head. As he straighten the hem of his new shirt, he noticed Clarke deliberately look away from the small strip of tan skin still visible above his dark trousers.

‘See something you like there, Princess?’ Bellamy challenged, quirking his eyebrow at her.

‘If there was something I liked surely I’d be looking at it, Blake,’ Clarke scoffed. Bringing her eyes back to his she continued, ‘I’ve seen better muscles on a cadaver.’

‘Oh Clarke, you do wound me so!’ said Bellamy, clutching his chest dramatically. ‘You still haven’t told me anything about the case.’

‘Well, someone tried to drown me in coffee! Anyway,’ Clarke ploughed through Bellamy’s attempt at protesting, ‘what we’ve found is in this file.’

Handing the brown paper file to Bellamy, Clarke settled on the edge of Raven’s desk. Smiling broadly at her dark-haired friend she continued to give the team a run down on the current evidence.

‘Monty and Jasper tested both the skin sample from under the victim’s fingernails and the blood taken from the keys. Both samples arise from different sources although both are definitely males. We ran them both through the available databases but neither returned any matches. Both the victim’s blood and the blood sample did flag system alerts to restricted files so if you can get access to them, that should give you an ID for both. The skin sample will only really be useful if you guys bring in a suspect,’ Clarke paused, mentally checking off the last item of evidence to update the detectives on. ‘Did you manage to find an ID for the victim yet?’

‘Yes, we did, just came through in fact,’ Raven said from her computer beside where Clarke sat. ‘Roman Duran, 19 years old. First year at university – art graduate.’

‘Student at Art, Recreation and Creative Design University, normally referred to as the ARC, just outside the city. Isn’t that where Octavia is a student, Bellamy?’ asked Finn. After receiving only a grunt in response, he continued. ‘Roma didn’t strike me as an art student though, thought they were all hipsters with crazy hair and stuff. You know?’

Clarke rolled her eyes, ‘That’s really not a necessary opinion here now is it, Finn?’ Generalising people by their appearance was one of her pet peeves; she’d experienced more than enough of it herself. Finn lowered his eyes sheepishly.

‘Both parents are deceased and no other immediate family is indicated in the file. Roma’s fingerprints are linked to the closed young offender’s file: arrested once for a minor drug possession charge. Got herself a caution and hasn’t been in trouble again since then,’ Nathan said.

The atmosphere in the office was notably dampened. The team were all used to dealing with death – unexpected death at that – but having to investigate the murder of someone so young and full of potential was much worse.

‘It’s just such a shame,’ Clarke sighed, pulling at her still damp shirt. ‘Do you need anything else from me now? I really should get out of this t-shirt.’

‘Not at the moment, no,’ Bellamy replied. ‘Try not to burn anyone else today please Princess. Not sure I can deal with all the paperwork.’

Gritting her teeth at the sarcastic use of her least favourite nickname, Clarke strode from the office making sure to slam the door behind her. Pressing the elevator button, she ran her hand through her tangled blonde hair, that could have gone a lot worse she reasoned. At least the worst thing she had done was spill tepid coffee over Detective Blake. 

* * *

Bellamy sighed as the door slammed shit, causing rings to ripple across the surface of his newly poured coffee. Weaving his left hand through his thick hair he went through the priority list for the case: first, her had to phone the chief sergeant and the Justice of the Peace officer to get a signed warrant to access the restricted files; then he needed to send a couple of officers out to the ARC to meet with people who knew Roma and search her room.

Unfortunately, the CCTV footage he and Miller had retrieved from the shopkeeper hadn’t yielded anything particularly useful – it showed two figures entering the alley where Roma’s body was later found and only one leaving but the system was old and the footage was low resolution. Given how grainy the pictures were there was no hope of being able to run facial recognition to ID anyone.

Bellamy decided to send Collins and Millers away to the ARC, reminding them to collect any CCTV they could and, if possible, talk to roommates and friends of Roma. His instructions were met with a scoff from Finn and a smirk from Nathan as her reminded Bellamy that, using typically Miller phrasing, this wasn’t the pairs first ‘shindig’. Shindig was such a Nathan-ism, Bellamy thought. He swore that in the several years that he and Miller had been working together, his vocabulary had expanded massively however, most of the unfamiliar words were next to useless in a day-to-day context.

Reyes was delegated the job of phoning the Justice of the Peace office, her ‘feminine ways’ would ultimately fare better with the men in charge which, in turn, would give them a much better chance of getting the warrant through faster. It was an appalling observation but, as much as both Bellamy and Raven hated it, they acknowledged that it was a legitimate method to speed up their investigation.

A brash laugh rang out across the room. The sounds originated from Raven but was so completely un-Raven-like that is spooked Bellamy. Well, he was spooked until he glanced across at her and caught her eye; Bellamy smirked at the dramatic eye roll and obscene hand gestures she offered him. Clearly she was having an enjoyable conversation.

Bellamy turned back to his own desk and dialled in the chief sergeant’s extension, lifting the handset to his ear and resting his forehead on his other hand. The phone rang several times before there was a click and a voice at the other end of the line.

‘Chief Sergeant Jaha here. What can I do for you, Blake?’ The sergeant’s voice was deeper than Bellamy’s, with a distinctly gravelly undertone. Bellamy attributed this roughness to the amount of shouting Jaha did to keep the entire force under control.

‘Afternoon Sir. Just a customary call to update you on our case’s progress and let you know we’ll be needing your signature on a warrant.’ Bellamy walked the chief through an abbreviated version of their findings thus dar. As far as Bellamy could tell, Jaha was happy (as happy as he had ever heard from the older man which, admittedly, was not very) with how the case had progressed so far and promised to get the signed warrant to the team as soon as he could.

Bellamy returned the handset to the receiver after a quick ‘thanks’ to the chief before wandering over to Raven’s desk. Evidently the warrant had come through from the Justice’s office; Raven was already putting the new permission into effect. She double clicked on the folder she had just downloaded from the precinct’s server onto her desktop. A small dialog box popped up requesting a password. Without hesitation Reyes typed in a combination of numbers and letters which were, as far as Bellamy could tell, completely random. Seemingly, Raven had completed the random selection correctly as she hit enter and a larger, second window replaced the first.

The new page bared a logo for an unknown company – ‘Mountain Medical’ – and had a title which flummoxed both of the well-educated detectives: 'Description and Applications of the Prototype (Blue Alpha-Helical A), including Prospective Donors, in respect to Patient 0-78B1L'.

Raven spun her chair to face Bellamy, ‘judging by the expression on your face, you understand as much as I do?’ ‘I think we may need to consult our resident know-it-all M.E. on this one,’ Bellamy sighed. This case was looking like increasing the amount of time he was going to have to spend with Dr Griffin; so much for keeping his stress to a minimum. ‘It’s late so I’ll take it down to her first thing tomorrow.’

* * *

Finn and Nathan were breezing down the freeway, rain splattering hard against the windshield of their cruiser. There was an amicable silence between the two men, they were an effective pairing, knowing how to get the job done without being at each other’s throats.

Soon enough, Miller indicated and pulled onto a slip road leading to the ARC. The university campus consisted of an odd mismatch of grey and white concrete buildings, adorned with various brightly coloured mosaics – the only indication of the subject matter specialised in by the students. A few of these students could be seen, heads down, braced against the wind and bitterly cold rain.

Finn had used the short journey time productively, organising a meeting with the ARC’s Dean and Roma’s advisor of studies. He had also phoned the landlord that owned Roma’s flat to ensure the flat was not disturbed before they got there. The landlord had divulged that Roma lived alone, ruling out a potential theory of a jealous roommate.

Pulling up into a free parking space, Nathan and Finn jumped out of the car, slamming their respective doors before hurrying through the rain to the main office. Standing outside the office, underneath a stone overhang carefully out of the reach of the continuing rain, stood two people. The woman wore a clean-cut blue suit whereas the male figure wore a loose, checked shirt and scruffy pair of black jeans.

‘Hello. I’m Nathan Miller,’ Nathan Said, grasping the outstretched hand of the woman and then the man, ‘and this is Finn Collins.’

Finn repeated Nathan’s actions and was informed that smartly dressed woman was Abby Griffiths, Dean of the University, whilst the scruffily dressed man was Marcus Kane, Roma’s Adviser of Studies and one of the university’s life drawing tutors.

‘It is a pleasure to meet you both,’ Ms Griffiths said, smiling politely at the two officers. ‘If only it had been under less unfortunate circumstances.’

Kane nodded in agreement, ‘I can’t believe that Roma is dead. I only spoke to her two days ago about one of her new pieces; she was such a hard-working girl.’

After several more questions, Finn and Nathan felt that they had enough information to go on. Marcus had told them that he though Roma attended an artist’s night out at a local bar, The Grounders. Finn had performed a quick online search and discovered that the alley where Roma was found lay between the bar and Roma’s apartment. The officers agreed that the best course of action was to make a visit to the bar on their way to Roma’s apartment. They were hopeful that the bar would have some CCTV cameras, as most bars now did, and potentially more evidence for them to collect.

* * *

Reaching The Grounders bar, Finn and Nathan marched into the small building. The bar was quiet, although there were a couple of customers sitting at the bar as well as a few staff milling around the floor completing a variety of basic clean-up tasks. The woman Finn asked quickly directed the two officers to the tall, well-built and heavily tattooed man behind the bar.

Lincoln, as they later found out, was the co-owner and manager of The Grounders. His co-owner, Anya, was currently on holiday leave so would be of no interest to the investigation. Lincoln was all too happy to provide the officers with the CCTV footage he had and also divulged an extra piece of information he thought would help the investigation. He told Finn and Nathan that he’d seen Roma talking to a man in the bar on the night she was killed.

‘His name is Murphy,’ said Lincoln quietly. ‘John Murphy.’


	3. Chapter 3

‘Hey Raven,’ Nathan said into the phone in his hand. The pair hadn’t spoken since the day before because, due to the late hour of the boy’s return from The Grounders bar, Raven had already finished her shift and left the precinct. Finn and Nathan were back on the roads, having made an early start in order to get Roma’s flat processed before heading to the precinct for the rest of their shift. ‘Would you be able to look into a potential suspect for us, please? Name is John Murphy, male, aged between 18 and 25 according to Lincoln.’

‘I’m emailing the CCTV from the bar across to you now too, Raven,’ Finn added. ‘Could you also scan through that too?’

‘Of course, Collins, we all know I have nothing better to do right now,’ Raven’s said bitingly, before peering around the office and realising that she was alone. Finn and Nathan were in the car and Bellamy had disappeared off to the pathology lab as soon as he’d started his shift that morning. She huffed before continuing, ‘actually, looks likes I actually don’t have anything better to do right now so I’ll see what I can find out about this John Murphy guy.’

‘Your hard working is always appreciated, Reyes,’ Nathan said.

‘Stop sucking up to me and get back to your damn work, Miller,’ Raven laughed before ending the call.

She replaced the handset on her desk and returned to her computer, responding to the soft ‘bing’ indicating that a new email had arrived in her inbox. Double clicking on the download icon within the email – signed off with a Finn x, Raven noticed, rolling her eyes - a second window popped up alerting her to the large size of her download. Raven sighed, deciding that she might as well get herself another mug of coffee as she waited not-so patiently for the footage to transfer.

Turning her chair away from the slowly progressing download, Raven headed for the pot of coffee sat on a spare surface. She’d made this batch the minute she arrived in the office so the coffee was now barely warm, but it was coffee, and that would do for now. Raven wasn’t nearly as particular about her coffee as her boss. Bellamy virtually mainlined coffee, rarely without a fresh mug in his hand, and had certainly had an impact on her drinking habits. Before she’d arrived at the precinct Raven rarely drank coffee. Now, she admitted, she relied on it to kickstart her day. Although she now appreciated the rich caffeinated drink, Raven still couldn’t bear the drink without a splash of milk and a sugar or two. How Bellamy – and to a lesser extent, Nathan – managed to down several cups of strong, black coffee every day, Raven would never know.

Satisfied with her newly poured mug, Raven settled back at her computer. The download bar showed that the CCTV footage had barely started downloading so Raven decided to being a search for John Murphy instead – better do something to earn her wage, she thought to herself.

Clicking through to the electoral register, Raven began her search by entering only the suspect’s name: John Murphy. 3,408 results. Name and 30-mile radius for area. 158 results. Finally, name, search area and approximate birth years. 34 results.

Cursing inwardly Raven decided to save the search results and wait for the facial recognition later. Typing a few short lines of codes (sometimes having been a teenage computer protégé was a real bonus) Raven set up an alert that would ring through to her phone when the CCTV footage was completely downloaded. In the meantime, Raven decided to wander down to the pathology lab to see how Bellamy and Clarke were getting on. She just hoped that there wasn’t going to be another murder to investigate.

* * *

  
Nathan shoved his phone back into his pocket, adjusting his seatbelt as he did so. He and Finn had finished conversing with Lincoln at The Grounders the evening before – it turned out that the guy was very helpful, not nearly as scary as his initial appearance would suggest – and had decided to start the new day by making their way to Roma’s flat. Nathan didn’t hold out much hope that they would find anything of use within the empty student flat but they could leave no stone unturned.

Beside him, Finn clicked his laptop closed and ungracefully shoved the computer under his seat. Sweeping his long hair out of his eyes, Finn reached over and turned on the radio; a nondescript pop song immediately filled the car. Finn hummed along under his breath as Nathan put the car in reverse and pulled away from the residential building Finn called home.

‘Can you check Roma’s address into the sat nav for me, Collins?’ asked Nathan. He knew the streets, having lived and worked in the area for the majority of his life, but thought that getting lost looking for a specific address would be a bad start to the day. Nathan was not especially keen on getting lost.

Finn nodded, grabbing the small black device from the centre of the dashboard. The machine made a series of clicks as he typed, the noises mingling with the background sound of the pop song and the slightly whining engine. He stuck the screen back before leaning back in his seat with a satisfied smile.

A short time later the pair pulled into a narrow street and drew up outside a multi-storey building. It was a relative plain building: off-white in colour with patches of moss and a few cracks dotted randomly across the structure. Switching off the engine, both men stepped out of the car, Finn with warrant papers in hand, before moving to the front of the building.  
‘Well, that’s helpful,’ Finn laughed, indicating the brick that had been used to prop the door open.

‘If only there were breaks like this every day,’ Nathan replied with a wry smile as he pushed the door further open.

Continuing on through the dark corridor, the both arrived at a lift – although they were unable to confidently say that it was a working one. Deciding that their luck had run out with the open front door, the officers decided to take that stairs instead, a decision that the pair almost immediately regretted when they were hit by the stench of urine and stale sweat. Darting up the stairs, two at a time, Nathan and Finn reached the second floor in record time.

Emerging from the dingy stairwell they found themselves in an equally dank corridor, open to the elements on one side. Quickly making their way along the dingy corridor, Finn located Roma’s flat: number 19. The front door was green, or it had once been green. There were large chunks of paint missing or peeling, exposing the rusted metal underneath. Pushing the key into the lock – Roma’s landlord had been kind enough to provide them with his spare key – Finn attempted to unlock the door. Twisting the key he gave the door a firm push but was met with only resistance. Wiggling the key and putting more force behind his shove the door, finally, gave way with an almighty creak or its rusted hinges.

The room the pair stepped into was unexpectedly light and bright. The edges of the floor were covered in various paintings and other artistic studies which livened up the plain white walls and cheap plastic furniture with the windows on the far wall allowing the pale sunlight in. Nathan withdrew a small camera from his bag, quickly working his way around the room snapping photographs of everything. Once that task was finished he and Finn snapped on pairs of blue latex gloves to do a more thorough search of the room. Delicately, Nathan reached down a plucked the first piece of canvas from the floor. The painting in his hand was of an old pair of eyes, copper brown in colour and lined with wrinkles. It was so highly detailed that if he hadn’t been holding it, able to feel the rough ridges of the paint, Nathan would have been convinced that it was a photograph.  
Turning the painting over in his hands, Miller read the inscription hastily scribbled on the back – ‘Grandma’s eyes’ in larger letters, with ‘possibly’ written in almost illegible letters underneath. He felt a pang of sadness for the young girl he’d never met. Nathan knew that Roma’s grandparents had died before she was born, and that her mother and father had passed away when Roma’s was young. Some people just get all the bad luck, Nathan thought. Cases like these were excellent for putting the hardships of his life into perspective.

Nathan put the painting down again and moved around the room, looking for any clues that may have to do with her death – Finn completed a similar sweep in the bathroom and kitchen. In the bathroom Finn found a number of pill containers but, upon reading the labels, found that they were all either prescribed to Roma or bought over the counter. Nothing stronger than a paracetamol graced the shelves. Finn found that he was slightly relieved, he knew that students got a bad rap from the media due to 'drug taking' and was glad there would be no excuse for the media to blame Roma for her situation – although he admitted he'd been quick to make similar judgements himself.

The two men decided to tackle the bedroom together, it made raking through a person's things – even if said person was dead – slightly less awkward. They worked in silence, uncovering nothing except a few unfinished paintings, a diary and a few old letters. Three of the letters were marked with the Mountain Medical logo. After reading the contents of the letters they decided to take them back to the precinct. Bellamy had been going to talk to Clarke about the file and company that morning so Nathan and Finn knew they would understand the letters better than them.

Finn took the camera Nathan offered and documented the last few things before they left the flat, ensuring they locked the door behind them. They made their way back down the stairwell and out to their car.  
'Raven's not sent us anything on John Murphy yet,' Nathan said, checking his phone. 'We might as well head back to the precinct and see what's going on back there.'  
Finn nodded and gestured to the keys in Nathan's hand, 'I think you'll find it's my turn to drive.'  
'Feel free,' Nathan replied, tossing the keys across the bonnet of the car. 'I could do with a nap anyway.'

* * *

  
Raven reached the door of the lab and, upon noticing the scene inside, stood in the doorway to observe. Bellamy and Clarke were standing toe to toe, glaring at each other - well, Bellamy was glaring down to meet Clarke's gaze; the petite woman had her head tilted up high in order to meet Bellamy’s. Bellamy's hair was sticking up in complete disarray – he had clearly been running his hands through it. Clarke's wasn't much better though, now Raven took a proper look at it, the front had come loose from her braid and the small strands were framing her slightly red face. The crinkles between her eyebrows were clearly visible even from where Raven stood. The pair were also breathing heavily, clearly Raven had timed her entrance between shouting bouts.

'At least nobody is dead, Raven thought to herself, 'it could have been much worse.'

Clearing her throat Raven moved into the lab; Clarke took a step away from Bellamy and smiled brightly at the other woman. Outside of work Raven and Clarke were close; they had been since they met at police training several years earlier, so the arrival of Raven was good news in terms of diffusing arguments.

'Raven! Hi, how are you?' Clarke said happily. 'Come to take your aggravating boss back upstairs yet?'

Bellamy growled quietly behind Clarke but Raven just laughed.

'Unfortunately not, Clarke. He's not been down here nearly long enough. I'm sure you've not finished all of the work you need to.'

‘I’ve definitely been here more than long enough?' Bellamy asked, running his hand through his hair again. 'We've barely got anything done down here. God dammit Princess.'

Clarke whirled back to face him, 'You really are an ass, Blake. I wasn't the one causing the issues. You just won't listen.'

He scoffed, 'you know that's not true, Princess. I'm sure your ten-minute conversation with Jasper and Monty was really required…'

'I can't drop all of my work just because you and your stupid smirk appear at my door…'

'Oi! You two. Can we stop this now?' Raven shouted over the top of the rising voices of the pair, who had subconsciously moved nearer to each other again. 'If I stay can we get this debrief done in peace?'

'Yeah, maybe,' Bellamy said. Clarke just mumbled something incomprehensible under her breath.

Looking slightly less worked up, Clarke moved away from Bellamy back to the autopsy table where all of the Mountain Medical files were spread out. She shuffled through them for a second before grasping one page and removing it from the pile with a flourish.

'Essentially the file you found was a patient file and an experimental procedure file all wrapped into one,' Clarke began, scanning the page as she spoke. 'The publishers of this file seem to be interested in a rare blood disease, and are looking for a potential treatment or cure.'

'It says with respect to Patient 0-78B1L,' said Raven. 'Any clue who that could be referring to?'

'It doesn't mention any specifics about the person but each of the names indicated in the file includes a comparison between their blood and his, which is why the blood on the key brought back this file. One of the blood tests in here matches the suspect's blood,' Clarke paused, the creasing between her eyebrows growing deeper.

'What is it Princess?' Bellamy asked, taking a step towards the table and the M.E. He gave her a small smile and continued, 'this doesn't sound too terrifying so far.'

'I haven't told you the scary part yet, Bellamy. I think they are looking for a human lab rat to experiment on. They need a compatible person with a certain mutation in their blood to produce any sort of viable cure.'

'Okay, well that is concerning but that doesn't explain why you have gone as white as a sheet,' Bellamy said, a note of concern in his voice. He was expecting a snarky remark but instead Clarke turn just took a small breath.  
'Well, Roma's name is on this list as an acceptable donor but marked as 'turned down opportunity'. Guess whose name is four people below her with the same remark next to her name?'

Clarke handed Raven the sheet of paper, her hand shook slightly as she handed it over. Raven's eyes scanned down the list quickly and met Clarke's eyes quickly, realisation dawning in their chocolaty depths.  
'Clarke, this is your name,' Raven gasped, handing the sheet to Bellamy as Clarke nodded in confirmation.

'That doesn't mean you're in danger. We don't even know if this has anything to do with Roma's murder yet,' said Bellamy. 'I'm sure you'll be fine.'

'Whether or not that is the case, you can sleep at mine tonight okay?' Raven said determinedly, just as her phone chimed from her pocket. 'That's our signal to get back upstairs, Blake. See you later, Clarke.'

Clarke nodded and hugged the other woman in thanks. Listening to the lab door click shut she sighed, she probably wasn't in danger but it never hurt to be cautious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this (although considering the 2 year hiatus I took whilst posting this to ff.net, I'm not doing too badly). Hopefully you're enjoying this story so far, I'm happy to be getting back into it but am struggling to remember some of my ideas and plotlines from 2015 - I knew I should have written them down at the time, c'est la vie.
> 
> This chapter is a bit fillery, maybe, but also pushes the plot forward a little bit. You also got a little more Bellarke interaction which I know is what you're really here for. 
> 
> If you are enjoying this so far please leave kudos/comments because they really motivate me to write more, especially knowing that there is a keen audience out there. 
> 
> Anyway, enough from me. Thank you for reading! <3


	4. Chapter 4

Bellamy and Raven are absorbed in watching some CCTV footage on Raven’s computer when Finn and Nathan return to the precinct. The black and white footage on the screen was slightly grainy, but clear enough to allow them to pick out individual faces in the packed bar. Bellamy felt exhausted just watching the busy bar staff rush back and forward behind the bar as they tried to keep up with the waves of clients arriving at The Grounders. Raven has spotted Roma in the crowd but had yet to see anyone stay by the girl’s side for any particular length of time. Luckily, there were several more hours of footage to comb through in order to identify a suspect; unluckily, there were several more hours of grainy, black and white footage to comb through.

Whilst Bellamy and Raven were involved in watching the CCTV video, Finn was on the phone to Mountain Medical in a seemingly pointless attempt to glean information about the file whilst Nathan was attempting to obtain a warrant to access more of Mountain Medical’s files. The team were especially interested in any files that contained in either Roma’s or Clarke’s names – obviously. Miller and Collins had been taken aback by the revelation that Clarke was potentially linked to the case. Finn seemed desperate to go and comfort the blonde M.E. (luckily for Clarke, Raven managed to discourage him) whilst Nathan took a more rational approach. Sure, he reasoned, it was mildly concerning that Clarke had discovered her name on the same list as their victim but, on the other hand, there were 13 other people on that list and none of them had turned up dead – or not yet anyway. It was reasonable to be cautious but it could just be a coincidence. A slightly blood-stained coincidence.

The boys were further reassured when Raven informed them that Clarke would be staying with her overnight – Raven hoped she could convince Clarke to stay for a couple of nights but she knew how stubborn her friend could be – and her teammates knew that their pathologist would be in safe hands. Raven was not only their resident computer wizard, she was also highly talented in both hand-to-hand combat and shooting. Her scores on the shooting range were just lower than Nathan and Bellamy’s – and a small league ahead of Finn’s scores. Clarke would be in very safe hands indeed.

The quiet of the office was suddenly broken by a triumphant shout from Raven herself. ‘There he is! Gotcha!’

Bellamy laughed lightly at her enthusiasm, ‘you want to help me to come pick up him?’

‘Goddamn right I do, Blake!’ Raven said. ‘We’ve already got the warrant – thanks to me – so once we get an address we can head out.’

Raven extracted a clear image (well, as clear as the slightly pixelated footage would allow) of John Murphy’s face and imported it into the facial recognition software on her computer. With a whir from the computer’s fan, the program began its work; running through various complicated measurements and equations – which Raven may or may not have memorised – attempting to match the face in the footage to a photo on an available database. If John Murphy had a passport or driving licence they’d find him.

Several minutes went by, long enough for Bellamy to make and drink another mug of strong coffee, before the software returned a result. Springing up from where she was reclining in her chair, Raven rapidly scanned through the returned file.

‘We’ve got an address. Let’s go get him, boss!’

‘Since when do you call me boss?’ Bellamy asked, raising a single eyebrow at her incredulously.

‘My mistake. Get your ass sorted and let’s go!’ Raven amended, already on her way out of the door.

‘She’s got you so whipped,’ Nathan snorted, calling after Bellamy as the detective ran after their female colleague.

Bellamy’s raised middle finger was the last thing out of door causing Nathan to laugh at his boss’s crude gesture.

* * *

 

Shortly after Raven and Bellamy had left the precinct, Finn and Nathan were also on their way out of the door; a newly printed warrant in Miller’s hand.

The pair drove to the outskirts of the city before turning off onto the long driveway which led to the glass-fronted building that belonged to Mountain Medical. The pair parked carefully before making their way to the sleek glass doors which breeze open and permit then into the air-conditioned marble reception. The redheaded women as the desk informed that that the head of the company, Dr Cage, will be out to speak with them soon, directing them to a area of plush seating to wait.

‘Can I get you fellas anything to drink?’ she continues, voice soft and ethereal. Miller decides that she could be the human version of a fairy.

Shaking their heads, both men decline the polite offer, assuring the polite woman that they are happy to sit patiently to wait for her boss to arrive.

Soon enough a tall, well-dressed man appears from one of the glass – everything in this building is fucking glass, Miller points out and Finn nods, pitying the people who have to keep that all clean – elevators and makes his way purposefully towards them.

Nathan sizes him up immediately: well-fitted suits, so he has money – not much of surprise given the size of the company he runs; nice shoes (proper Italian shoes, Finn sighs at him wistfully) which back up the money idea; perfect, white teeth which Nathan thinks must be due to expensive dental work rather than genetics; and narrowed eyes which have both officers immediately thinking ‘snake’.

Swallowing down this feeling, Miller and Collins rise and shake the man’s hand.

‘Hello. I’m Dr Cage,’ the man says, with a well-practiced smile and a firm shake of both of their hands. ‘How can I help you gentlemen today?’

‘Dr cage, we are here concerning our current murder enquiry which involved a woman who was seemingly linked to your company – more specifically in one of your medical trials. We were wondering if you could give us any more information about the project and the list of names we’ve uncovered,’ said Finn.

‘Can I ask which of our projects you are inquiring about?’

Nathan nodded, ‘the name of the file was ‘Description and Applications of the Prototype (Blue Alpha-Helical A), including Prospective Donors’. Double checking the information on his phone he then continued, ‘the file was in respect to Patient 0-78B1L’.

Dr Cage’s eyes flickered minutely. ‘Ah,’ he started, ‘unfortunately the prospective donors and initially patient are protected under doctor-patient confidentiality. I cannot reveal and any of their identities to you unless you have a specific warrant and have spoken to our lawyer regarding the injunction placed to protect the original patient’s identity.’

Finn definitely thought that his tone belayed a barely contained smirk.

‘Well, sir, we do have a warrant here and, with respect, this concerns the murder of a young woman with links back to this company,’ Nathan said, pleasant smile on his face but a distinct icy edge to his voice.

‘Be that as it may, we have a duty to protect the identities of our patients,’ Cage was definitely smirking now. ‘Surely you can understand that?’

‘Of course sir, that’s not a problem. We will return with another warrant soon,’ Finn assured, shaking Dr Cage’s hand again. ‘Thank you for the help Dr Cage.’

Nathan quickly grasped Cage’s hand before the pair turn away and made their way back across the air-condition space. With a polite smile towards the receptionist, both men left through the sparkling glass doors.

‘What an ass,’ Miller huffed as soon as they were out of earshot.

‘Can’s disagree with you there, mate,’ Finn replied, as the pair slid back into the car again.

* * *

 

Raven and Bellamy had already located John Murphy, who seemed willing to co-operate (especially with Raven, much to the amusement of her senior officer, Murphy didn’t attempt to hide his flirtations), and were on their way back to the station with old rock music blaring from the radio. Raven was driving, waving in and out of the lanes of traffic making impressive time on the short drive.

Drawing back up outside the precinct, Bellamy let Murphy out of the back of the patrol car and led him the short distance into the station. His head swilled around as they walked, absorbing everything he could on the quick walk from the front door to the interrogation room; clearly, he was interested in the goings on of the force. Once they had Murphy settled in the room, Bellamy sent Raven to get Clarke so they could run their DNA test on their suspect.

Bellamy settled himself into the seat opposite Murphy, keeping his eyes fixed on the younger max. Murphy – who’d already told them he wouldn’t respond to John – had long, scraggly hair and a greyish complexion. He also wore a permanent half smirk on his face although had slowly started to fade under Bellamy’s intense gaze.

‘Can we get started or…’ Murphy tried.

Bellamy held up his hand, interrupting Murphy’s speech. ‘We’ll get started as soon as our pathologist has taken a DNA sample from you, just so that we aren’t interrupted once we begin.’

As if on cue, Clarke entered the room, DNA swab kit in hand.

The instant Murphy spotted her his half smirk returned and he sat up straighter in his chair. ‘Jesus, where do you find all of these women?’

Bellamy ignored him and Clarke just rolled her eyes, unscrewing the top of the swab.

‘Open your mouth please,’ she asked politely. Murphy complied.

‘Once I’m found innocent of this rubbish, how about you and I get some dinner?’ Murphy said, wiggling his eyebrows at Clarke.

‘Thanks for the offer but I don’t think you could handle me if I’m honest,’ Clarke replied cheekily, before turning to leave the room. Bellamy’s mouth gaped open slightly as he struggled not to send a questioning look her way; he knew she had a cheeky side (Raven had recounted some of the girls nights out and it was almost enough to make the boys blush) but he’d never heard he be so forward before. Clarke spotted his expression and gave him a wide smile before closing the door behind her.

Reminding himself where he was, Bellamy quickly schooled his expression and moved his gaze back to Murphy – choosing to ignore the pointed look the other man shot his way.

‘Let’s start nice and easy then,’ Bellamy began as Raven settled back into the seat next to him – switching on the voice recorder as she did so -, ‘how did you know Roma?’

‘I didn’t really know her,’ Murphy said as he dragged his hand through his hair. ‘I’d et her a couple of times at The Grounders but that’s it. She seemed cool.’

Bellamy noted that down, ‘fine. When and where did you last see her?’

‘Tuesday night, at the bar.’

‘Did you kill her?’

Murphy choked. ‘What? No! Of course I didn’t,’ he spluttered.

‘Just thought I should check,’ Bellamy smirked.

Raven and Bellamy alternated questioning for a short while longer before Bellamy’s mobile vibrated in his pocket. He noted that the message was from Dr Griffin and opened it immediately.

The message read: ‘Murphy DNA match to skin under Roma’s fingernails.’

Looking up from his phone and back across at Murphy, he narrowed his eyes.

‘Can you explain why your skin was found under the victim’s – sorry, Roma’s – fingernails?’

Murphy swallowed,’ well, erm, things got a bit heated between us at the bar.’

‘What kind of heated? Did you argue? Did you hurt her?’ Raven demanded, leaning threateningly across the table towards Murphy.

‘No! No, I mean, we were kissing, well, making out and we got into it and she scratched my back and yeah,’ Murphy stuttered, blush spreading across his defined cheekbones as he rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand.

Bellamy cleared his throat, ‘is there anyone who can confirm your story?’

‘I’m sure the waitress who walked in on us would back up my story,’ Murphy drawled, relaxing back in his seat.

After a few more questions, the officers wrapped up the interview and released Murphy with a promise from him that he would not leave the city.

* * *

 

Finishing up for the night, Clarke switched off the lights in the lab and took the lift to meet Raven in the office. Waving a quick goodbye to Miller and Bellamy, who were both still hard at work at their desks, the girls linked arms and exited through the heavy oak doors.

‘I think here a bunch of movies and a couple of pizzas with our names on them for tonight,’ Raven said as she carefully reversed her car out of its designated parking space. ‘We need a proper girl’s night.’

‘I assume by movies you mean Die Hard and Drive and then maybe The Mummy?’ Clarke laughed at Raven’s enthusiastic nods. ‘That sounds perfect to me. We’ll need to stop of at mine first so I can grab some stuff though.’

Raven whined, ‘no, Clarke. First thing we need is definitely pizza. I’ve got plenty of pyjamas you can wear, a spare toothbrush and it’s our day off tomorrow so can stop by yours in the morning to get you more stuff since, you know, you’re definitely moving in with me until we solve this one!’

Clarke roller her eyes at that, ‘there’s no need for that. I’m sure I’m just being paranoid. I’m staying at yours tonight and then back home tomorrow.’

‘Nope, nu-uh, not happening Clarke. I’ve already talked about it with the team and we’ve decided us both staying at mine is a much better idea. So, shut it,’ Raven laughed, glaring at Clarke’s pout. ‘Us living together will be fun, like when you first moved to the city.’

Clarke sighed, she knew she would never win this one. ‘Fine, straight to yours for pizza then move some of my stuff to yours tomorrow. I’m not happy about it but I guess we did have fun living together before.’

Pumping her fist, Raven grinned broadly. ‘Hell yes we did, Griffin!’

Reaching over, Clarke turned the knob on the radio so that the music blasted them back into theirs seats, as the girls began singing along. A proper girl’s night was definitely what they both needed.

* * *

 

Settling down on the pull out sofa, the girls rearranged the cushions and blankets to create a sort of furnishing nest before grabbing slices from their respective pizzas: ham, pineapple and chilli flakes (Raven); chicken, mushroom and mozzarella (Clarke). Raven had turned the lights off before climbing over the back of the sofa to join Clarke, so the room was lit only by the light from the large flat-screen that hung on the wall above the fireplace. They’d decided to start with The Mummy and hopefully follow it up with The Mummy Returns for several reasons; 1) the movies were amazing, a sort of slightly out-of-date but immortal comedy, which tickled both Clarke and Raven’s sense of humour; 2) ‘Brendan Frasers hot,’ declares Raven – Clarke agrees; 3) ‘so is Rachel Weisz,’ Clarke replies – Raven nods enthusiastically.

Raven has also decided that girl’s night is not truly girl’s night without alcohol (Clarke swears it’s like her best friend can read her mind sometimes) so both girls have large glasses of wine beside them – having already downed a shot of strawberry vodka for ‘old time’s sake’.

The alcohol in her blood and satisfying weight of pizza in her stomach soon has Clarke sliding further down into the blankets, leaning sideways to rest her head on Raven’s muscular thigh. The emanating warmth is reassuring, and Raven’s smell so familiar that Clarke relaxes for the first time this week. Emotions had been high since the beginning of this case. Well, more like since she found her own name on a list connected to something she didn’t know about, but it was finally the end of her working week and Clarke was determined to use her day off well.

As the credits of the second movie scroll across the screen, Raven switches of the tv, moves the empty wine glasses from the sofa before lowering herself to lie beside Clarke. She has her own bed but it’s been a long time since the best friends had slept beside each other and both have decided it’s been much to long. The warmth created by the two of them is lulling them to sleep, with both fighting to stay awake a little longer – not wanting to waste any of their rare time together.

‘I feel like we’ve not done this properly if we don’t talk rubbish until we fall asleep,’ Clarke whispers, snuggling closer to Raven’s shoulder. ‘We always talk our best shit when we’re tired and tipsy.’

Raven laughed softly, ‘you’re so right Clarke. Shit talking it is: how’s the love life going?’

Clarke snorts, ‘you’re so predictable, Reyes. My love life is non-existent. Don’t have much time for a social life at the moment. Hooked up with Niylah again a couple of weeks back, but that’s just mutual stress relief. I mean, amazing stress relief, but that’s all it is.’

‘I know what you mean about busy,’ Raven hums in agreement. ‘I’ve not had anyone – stress relief or otherwise – since I broke up with Wick and that’s been what, 8 months? It’s a good thing I’ve got a strong hand and a couple of decent vibrators really.’

The girl’s dissolved into giggles; normally that wouldn’t have been so funny but the alcohol helped on that front.

‘Vibrators are a girl’s best friend,’ Clarke nodded. ‘All the fun with none of the feelings.’

Raven sighed sagely, ‘feelings can be good though. I miss feelings. Shame I’ve run out of options at work otherwise I could actually meet a guy there and wouldn’t have to worry about the social life aspect.’

Raven had tried dating Finn when she first started working at the precinct but he was not the commitment type (‘he was a fucking cheater,’ Raven clarified) so that ended as quickly as it began. Luckily, Raven hadn’t been emotionally invested and both had been able to move past that mistake and work reasonably together; Clarke still hated the guy on principle: ‘you fuck with my best friend, I fucking hate you forever’.

Bellamy was another one of Raven’s encounters (‘I’d give him an 8/10’, she’d declared – Finn had received a solid 2/10). Again, their ‘relations’ had occurred much before they worked together. They’d met in another life – Bellamy was tending bar whilst deciding what to do after his history degree; Raven was in her second year of her computer science degree, bored out of her skull and looking for her life’s next challenge. The two of them fucked, and then moved on with their lives before reuniting when Raven graduated from the police academy a year after Bellamy. The two still cared for each other but nothing more had ever come from it.

Raven did, however, claim that Bellamy was just Clarke’s type. A claim she was trying again on the currently tipsy, and therefore, more plaint Clarke.

‘You guys would be so good together. Neither of you take any of each other’s shit. He’s good in bed, you claim you’re great in bed’ – Clarke huffed, ‘I am amazing in bed!’ – ‘and you argue like an old married couple but have the sexual tension of newlyweds…’

Clarke clapped her hand over her friend’s mouth, ‘you are officially the worst. I am not going to fuck Detective Blake.’

Raven licked the palm the covered her rosy lips before huffing out a dark chuckle, ‘I bet he’d nut if you called him that in bed!’

* * *

 

Clarke groaned, stretching her hands above her heads in an attempt to release the knotted muscles in her shoulders. Shoulders loosened, Clarke peered around the blankets and cushions that seemed to have migrated through the night in search of the distinctive inky-coloured hair of her friends. A soft snore to her left indicates where her friend is currently curled up, drooling on her own arm.

‘Such an attractive girl,’ Clarke laughed to herself before flicking Raven’s ear softly.

‘Whaaa…’ Raven waved her arm wildly. ‘Fuck off, Clarke.’

‘Such foul language from a lady,’ Clarke gasps, pretending to faint and lying across her friend. ‘Your mother would be ashamed to have raised such a fiend.’

‘Who needs a mother when I’ve got friends like you eh, Princess?’

Clarke laughs and rolls away, ‘you know I hate that nickname and for that,’ she pauses dramatically, ‘you don’t get any coffee.’

That gets Raven’s attention. Whining she grabs Clarke’s hand and uses her puppy-dog eyes. Raven worked out that Clarke cannot resist her puppy-dog eyes approximately 2 minutes after they first met and has been using them to her -unfair – advantage ever since. ‘I thought you loved me, Clarke.’

Laughing heartily, Clarke extricated herself from Raven’s grip and made her way towards the small kitchen. ‘Okay, babe, I’ll make you coffee if you tidy the blankets away.’

‘Love you Clarke!’

* * *

 

A short while later the living room tidied – well, reasonably tidied but they’d be doing another movie night tonight so fuck tidying – coffee was consumed, – milk and two sugars from Clarke; black and strong for Raven – teeth were brushed, – because they weren’t completely gross – and the girls were on their way to Clarke’s apartment to let her pick up some things for her stay at Raven’s.

The music was blaring once again and the windows were open, allowing in the fresh spring air but resulting in some seriously messed up hair. The views of the city rushed by them; all grey and white stone, interspersed with council planted ‘green spaces’. Clarke loved this city but sometimes she thought wistfully about the beach that she’d grown up beside. The company here was infinitely better than the shitty people she’d left behind near the beach though, so that was an improvement.

Due to Raven’s quick driving the trip to Clarke’s apartment block took no time at all. Soon they parked up on the street outside her building and, grabbing a couple of carboard boxes – Raven like to move around a lot and always kept her moving boxes – from the back seat before entering the building and making their way to Clarke’s flat.

Reaching her front door, Clarke fumbled in her bag for her keys whilst Raven rolled her eyes. Finally finding them, Clarke retaliated by sticking her tongue out before clicked the key into her lock and opening the door.

As soon as the door opened, Clarke and Raven were forced back by a tall, balaclava-clad figure. Raven tripped and landed on the floor, scrambling to reached for the gun strapped to her back. As she adjusted to reach her weapon, the figure lashed out at Clarke, something silver glinting in their closed fist.

She managed to dodge to first lunge using her bag to knock aside her aggressor, but wasn’t so lucky the second time around. Distracting her with his other hand, the stranger swung at her head and, as she reached to defend her face, jabbed her quickly with the weapon. Clarke screamed and dropped her bag, scrabbling at the figures face, trying to fight back. She managed to scratch the small area of visible skin, drawing blood from her attacker cheek as he plunged the knife into her a second time before he took off running down the hall.

Raven finally managed to free her gun from her holster and rapidly fired of 3 rounds at the retreating figure, missing with two of the shots but, judging by the harsh cry of the man, managed to clip him with the final shot. Raven was about to take off after the suspect when she was Clarke slide slowly to the ground, hand on her abdomen slick with her own blood.

‘Fucking hell,’ Raven gasped, dropping her gun and launching herself over to her friend. ‘Clarke… Clarke… hey, speak to me.’

Clarke whimpered softly, hot blood seeping from between her fingers as she tried to hold her wound closed, like her medical training told her to do. The other part of her though, the non-trained, scared girl just wanted to let go and cry. Jesus fucking Christ, this fucking hurt!

‘Hey Clarke! Just squeeze my hand okay? I’m gonna get backup. Everything’s going to be fine.’

Clarke wanted to speak but felt like maybe sleeping instead. Sleeping sounded like the best idea ever.

‘Clarke, sweetie, open your eyes,’ Raven said desperately, grasping at Clarke’s pale (ever more pale than usual) hand in hers, stroking her cheek with the other. ‘Bellamy and Miller are on their way, ambulance too. You just have to stay awake for 5 minutes, okay? No sleeping.’

Clarke whined again, ‘I wanna sleep, Raven. It hurts. My stomach hurts. I’m just gonna close my eyes for a minute. You stay right there.’

‘Clarke… Clarke… Clarke!’ Raven’s desperate pleas faded into silence as Clarke succumbed to her heavy eyelids and the world dropped off into black.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait on this one. I was ill for several days (fucking sucks) and just generally couldn't bring myself to write anything. I also apologise for the quality of this chapter (it fucking sucks too) but hopefully it'll be enough to tide you over for a while. 
> 
> I've been reading loads of Bellarke stuff recently, trying to rediscover my total passion for them - it hadn't gone, just been dulled - and I found so many good ones and now I want to nominate them all for awards!
> 
> Anyway, if anyone has any other fanfic recommendations please let me know in the comments. Also, if anyone is interested in beta-ing this story, please get in touch either here or by messaging me on tumblr (claryfairechild).
> 
> That's all lovelies! As always, your kudos and comments are much appreciated and fuel my drive to keep writing this story xxx

Bellamy drummed his fingers on the desk. He rarely admitted to being bored, but right now he was. He should have headed home for the evening hours ago when Raven and Clarke had slipped away (closely followed by Finn who ducked out as Bellamy had removed a large stack of paperwork from his drawer). Bellamy didn’t believe Collins’ excuse one bit; nobody scheduled appointments for Friday evenings, it just wasn’t a thing. He couldn’t be bothered trying to argue with the junior officer though so he just gritted his teeth as Finn disappear out of the door, overly cheery smile on his smug face. Bastard.

It was almost 2 hours later when Bellamy reached somewhere near the end of the mountain of paperwork. Cases always came with masses of paperwork, especially murders, unfortunately for Bellamy. Luckily, however, Miller had offered to remain behind and help him to clear the stack before they left for the evening. Well, he’d offered in return for Bellamy promising to buy the first-round next time the pair went out together. In Bellamy’s opinion, help with the paperwork was worth much more that a beer; not that he was going to tell Miller that.

Sighing deeply, Bellamy reached for the next sheet from the top of the pile with one hand and his abandoned mug of coffee with the other. Scanning the page – a standard log of evidence he was required to sign – he took a quick sip from his mug before scowling. Fucking coffee was cold.

Pushing himself back from his desk, Bellamy grabbed the tepid coffee and strode towards the pot. He eyed the trickle in the bottom of the pot angrily, it was barely a mouthful of caffeinated liquid and Bellamy needed much more than that. Although, checking his watch and sighing again, Bellamy thought he should probably avoid more coffee if he wanted to sleep at all tonight. It was already well past the end of his shift – thank god for the team’s day off tomorrow – and he should definitely be at home right now. It was really no wonder that he had no real social life outside of this job. He had no goddamn time for a social life.

Speaking of a lack of social life, Miller was still slaving away at his pile of paperwork. He appeared to be holding a pen in either hand with an additional pen tucked behind his left ear, two empty mugs on the desk in front of him. Bellamy shook his head fondly, he was certainly setting an example for the younger man – before Nathan started working at this precinct, Bellamy knew that he rarely drank coffee and used to work until the end of his shift and no longer. Now, Bellamy was lucky if he was ever in the office without having being beaten there by Nathan. Some would call it dedication to the job, but Bellamy suspected it had something to do with Miller’s recent break-up with his boyfriend. The murder was just a good excuse to avoid the emotional time Nathan was enduring.

Enough was enough for tonight though, Bellamy had decided. Neither of the men would get paid adequately to justify the extra hours they were slogging through – the night shift would just have to take over from where they left off.

‘Hey Miller!’ he said. ‘Finish up with that last form and then let’s go. We’ve done more that enough for today.’

‘Yeah, with no thanks to Finn,’ Miller growled under his breath, flourishing his signature on the paper in front of him before capping the two pens in his hands. Rising from his seat he grabbed his bag and stuffed the essentials, making his way to the door once he’d collected everything.

‘Oi!’ Bellamy shouted after him. ‘You forgot the pen behind your ear, nerd!’

Ducking quickly to avoid the pen Miller had swiftly – and scarily accurately – thrown his way. Gathering his stuff, he followed Nathan out, still chuckling. The pair made the companionable journey to the front desk where they bumped into the senior detective on the night shift – a sharp-eyed woman called Indra – who Bellamy briefed on the cases progress and the work still to be completed, handing over a written list of the same information.  
Nodding in polite thanks, Indra strode towards the office while Bellamy and Miller took off in the opposite direction; towards the freedom of the outside and there upcoming day off.

Reaching their respective cars, the pair shucked off their bags; Bellamy threw his haphazardly into the back seat, Miller placed his carefully in the passenger footwell.

Before climbing into the car himself, Bellamy shouted across to Nathan, ‘hey, you got plans for tomorrow?’

‘You asking me on a date, Blake?’ Nathan smirked, raising himself back out of the driver seat to eye Bellamy across the roof. ‘I’m pretty sure HR wouldn’t approve…’

‘Oh, shut it you git,’ Bellamy chortled. ‘I was just gonna say we could head out to the dojo if you were free.’

Nathan laughed, ‘sure! See you in the morning, handsome!’

‘Don’t make me get HR involved,’ Bellamy guffawed, climbing into his car. He was reminded again why he and Miller got along so well; they were both coffee-addicted workaholics with shitty senses of humour.

* * *

  
Arriving home after the short drive from work – via the best local Chinese, because, sue him, Bellamy couldn’t be arsed cooking for himself tonight – Bellamy settled in to make the most of his evening. Octavia was staying at his apartment this week, a break from her studies at the ARC, so he’d bought enough food for the pair of them and he plated it all out before joining his sister on the sofa.

‘Hey O! Hope you’re hungry and ready for a Mummy movie marathon!’ he said, handing Octavia a plate before ruffling her hair.

‘Bell,’ Octavia sighed, batting his hand away in fond exasperation. ‘Do you need to do that every time you see me?’

‘It’s all part of my big brotherly duties, little sister.’

Octavia quirked an eyebrow at him before reaching over for the remote and starting the movie.

‘I still don’t know why you love these films so much,’ Octavia said, sinking her fork into a large piece of lemon chicken.

‘The Mummy is an essential part of my personality, O. They are classics and I obviously didn’t raise you well enough if you don’t understand that.’

Octavia laughed at the desperate expression on her brother’s face. Ruffling his hair, she settled down into his side and turn her attention back to the opening shots of the film.

‘You raised me goddamn well, Bell, and you know it.’

Bellamy smiled in response, warmed by her confidence, and tuck into his well-deserved food. He was looking forward to spending the next week with his sister and a relaxing day off tomorrow.

* * *

  
Rubbing his bleary eyes, Bellamy yawned contentedly. He’d slept solidly all night, stuffed with Chinese food and relaxed by the presence of his little sister. They’d made it to the end of the first film before Octavia has passed out by his side. Bellamy had carefully moved their empty plates to the table before carrying Octavia through to the bed in her room – technically, it was now his spare room but it was always O’s when she needed it.

After making sure his sister was soundly asleep, Bellamy has made his way to his own bed (a luxurious king size bed because why the fuck not?) and fallen soundly asleep. Awoken only by the strip of sunlight spilling through a small gap in the curtains and onto his face, Bellamy felt more rested than he had in a long time. It was wonderful.

Bellamy fired off a quick text to Miller, ensuring that their dojo ‘date’ was still going ahead (‘of course, babe’ was the rapid response) before rising out of his bed and padding through to his kitchen. It was too early for a proper breakfast, although Miller would definitely berate him for not eating properly before a workout, so Bellamy grabbed a couple of slices of bread and placed them in the toaster. He then turned to the small coffee machine in the corner (his first purchase after he had graduated from the police academy) and measured out enough to make 3 coffees: two for himself and one for Octavia. Or maybe, just 3 for him, depending on how the morning proceeded.  
Grabbing the toast as it popped out, Bellamy covered both slices in a thick layer of chocolate spread (because fuck it, it’s the weekend) and placed them on a plate. As is he’d done this before, his plating of the toast was perfectly timed to the brewing of his coffee. Pouring himself a large mug, Bellamy inhaled the bitter scent – glorious. Turning back to his breakfast, Bellamy halted in the middle of his kitchen, mug halfway to his mouth.  
‘Oh for fuck’s sake O! Make your own goddamn breakfast.’

Octavia was hovering beside his counter, one slice of his toast held delicately in her hand with a corner missing – the chocolate residue smudged around her grin.

‘Isn’t this part of your big brotherly duties too? Making me breakfast?’ Octavia asked, cocking her head to one side still smiling.

Grabbing the other slice of toast from his plate before Octavia could get her hands on it, Bellamy glared good-heartedly at his sister.

‘Fuck off, O!’

Slipping past Octavia, Bellamy kissed her on the forehead before proceeding out of the kitchen, mug and toast in hand to get ready for his workout with Miller. Halfway back to his room, Bellamy heard the sound of his ringtone emanating from his room. Quickening his steps, he reached the phone after the fifth ring, flipping it open with his usual greeting.

‘Blake here.’

‘Bellamy… you need to come now… we’re at Clarke’s… someone was here… she’s been stabbed… Clarke’s been stabbed,’ a female voice sobbed at him. Bellamy knew it was Raven from the caller ID but if her name hadn’t appeared he’s not sure he would have picked up that it was her voice; Bellamy had never heard Raven sound so agonised before.

‘Reyes, you need to slow down. You’re not coming through properly – it sounded like you said Clarke had been stabbed?’

‘Fuck, Bellamy, yes. Clarke has been stabbed,’ Raven cried, Bellamy’s mug slipped from his hand spilling the fresh coffee over his floor. ‘I’ve got 3 shots off but don’t know if I got him. There’s so much blood, Bell.’

Bellamy’s heart broke a little more at the desperation in Raven’s voice, he knew that she and Clarke were best friends and couldn’t imagine the way she was feeling right now. He and Clarke weren’t close and even he was distraught at the thought of the feisty blonde being hurt – seriously hurt.

‘Raven, listen, I’m on my way. I’ll get Miller and we’ll be there ASAP,’ said Bellamy. His house wasn’t far from Clarke’s apartment, and Miller’s was even closer. ‘Do you need us to get an ambulance there?’

‘No, Bell. I did that already,’ Raven said, softly. ‘I need to hang up Bell, just in case dispatch calls me back. Fuck, Bellamy, I think she’s dying. Clarke… Clarke!’

The call cut off abruptly and Bellamy’s heart seemed to halt for a second. There was no way that Clarke fucking ‘Princess’ Griffin was dying. That’s just not something he could accept was happening. She was so fucking stubborn, there’s no way she could die. Definitely not. Bellamy refused to accept it.

Shouting a quick farewell to Octavia, Bellamy darted out of the apartment. Smashing the elevator button with his left hand, he punched Nathan’s number into his phone.

‘Morning, handsome. You’re a bit keen for our date,’ Miller smirked into his phone,

‘Shit, no, Miller. I just got a call from Raven. She and Griffin are at Clarke’s and apparently Clarke’s been stabbed,’ Bellamy breathlessly caught Miller up. ‘It must be bad, Raven was saying that Clarke was dying and Reyes was sobbing, fuck Nate, I’ve never heard her so broken up before!’

‘Holy shit,’ Nathan breathed. ‘I’ll meet you outside mine in 2 minutes. We’ve got to get there.’

Snapping his phone closed, Bellamy shoved it in his pocket before running out of his building’s front door and leaping into his car.

Three agonising minutes later he drew up outside Miller’s building, relieved that Nathan was waiting outside: ready and waiting to leap into Bellamy’s slow, but still moving, car.

The pair didn’t exchange anything except worried glances as Bellamy’s tore down the road towards Clarke’s home. Luckily his car was police registered otherwise he’d be in line for a fuck-tonne of speeding fines.

* * *

 

Drawing up outside Clarke’s building, both men leapt from the car. Bellamy noted, with a grimace, that neither the ambulance nor the on-duty police had arrived yet – fucking slackers, Bellamy growled. The pair drew their guns, it never hurts to be wary, before proceeding up the stairs to the first floor. Clearing the stairwell, Miller pointed out the small splatter of blood on the wall surrounding 3 bullet holes. They were definitely in the right place.

‘Nate! Bellamy!’ Raven’s broken voice echoed along the hallway. Both men’s heads whipped towards the sound, like dogs scenting blood (an unfortunate analogy in this case Bellamy noted). Holstering his weapon, he sprinted along the corridor to Raven’s side, Miller hot on his heels.

Crouching down beside the dark-haired detective, Bellamy tried to assess the situation. Raven was a mess; her gun lay forgotten beside her knees as she stooped in a pool of blood. Both of her hands were stained red, pressed directly onto Clarke’s abdomen. Bellamy caught sight of Clarke’s skin: distinctly pale; eyes: fluttering softly; and hair: completely soaked with blood. So much for the golden crown of the Princess. The sight of the knife protruding from Clarke’s stomach stopped Bellamy in his tracks.

‘Fuck,’ he swore softly. ‘Raven, you okay?’

‘Of course I’m not fucking okay Bellamy,’ Raven said, voice cracking as she choked out another sob. ‘She’s fucking dying Bells, my best friend is dying.’

‘Hey, hey, she’s not going to die Raven!’ Bellamy consoled her, placing his hand on her shoulder. ‘I promise she’s not going to die. She’s far too hard-headed to die on us like this. You know that.’

Raven choked again, this time on a half-hearted laugh. 'I hope you're goddamn right.’

‘Ugh… whaaaa,’ Clarke mumbled, right hand reaching towards her abdomen.

‘Clarke… sweetie… hey,’ Raven let go Clarke’s wound to stroke the blonde woman’s face gently. ‘Hey.’

As soon as Raven removed pressure from the wound, it began to bleed again in earnest. Bellamy reached around Raven to replace her hands with his own. The warm, gooey feeling was so off-putting that it took most of Bellamy’s self-control not to vomit. He was a hardened detective with years of murder scene experience but it was different when it was the blood of someone you knew. So much worse.

‘It hurts… go away,’ Clarke whined again with a second attempt at reaching her hand up to the knife. ‘Take it out…’

‘No, Griffin, you always told us to leave the knife in,’ Bellamy said, using one large hand to stem the blood flow whilst the other moved Clarke’s hand away from the knife. ‘Princess, you always told us that the knife helps to control the bleeding.’

Clarke whimpered and her eyes fluttered open for a second, her blue eyes locking on Bellamy’s, ‘Bell… please….’

Bellamy shook his head and Clarke’s eyes fell shut again, her breathing becoming more ragged as they did so. Raven began to sob again in earnest, tears dripping from her long eyelashes onto the pale skin on Clarke’s face. Raven used one hand to carefully wipe the tears from Clarke’s face as they landed but it was becoming an impossible task as the tears were now coming thick and fast.

‘Ambulance has just pulled up!’ Nathan shouted from his vantage point.

Hearing this sprung Bellamy into action, ‘Raven, go stand beside Nathan.’ As he said this he shifted his hands from Clarke’s stomach, slotting one under her knees and the other behind her neck and then, in a move which was definitely stupid and not recommended by any first aid course, lifted Clarke from the ground; choosing to ignore the lack of response from the woman in his arms.

As briskly as his protesting muscles would allow, Bellamy manoeuvred along the corridor and down the stairs (cursing each individual one as he made his descent), towards the waiting ambulance. His appearance from the building seemed to shock the two ambulance crew who were progressing towards him, gurney in tow. As delicately as he could – Bellamy was not really built for delicacy – he placed Clarke on the waiting gurney. Feeling two pairs of eyes on him, Bellamy raised his head to meet the stares challengingly.

‘I’m a cop, okay?’ he asked, flashing the pair his badge. ‘She works with me and was with one of my junior officers when she was stabbed. You’d better take care of her.’

The ambulance crew nodded briskly, turning back towards their vehicle. Loading Clarke into the rear of the ambulance, the redheaded female turned to Bellamy, ‘we’re taking her to Polis General. As it’s so desperate you’ll have to come in your own car.’

Nodding to show her he understood, Bellamy turned back to where Nathan and Raven were emerging from the building, Miller supporting the majority of Raven’s weight as the young officer struggled to see through the streams of her tears.

Striding towards them, Bellamy directed them to his car – he stopped to give the arriving police officers a run down as well as his phone number. He knew he should wait at the scene but, fuck it, it was one of his people in that ambulance. Screw protocol.

Satisfied that the on-duty team knew enough, Bellamy jogged away to his car, throwing himself inside with little care. Revving the engine , he slammed the car into reverse and sped away from the building, following the unfamiliar route to the Polis hospital. Weaving in and out of lanes of traffic, Bellamy made good time, running a final amber light to reach the imposing hospital building.

The team sprinted from the carpark to the reception.

‘Hi, how may I help you?’ the kindly looking reception asked, raising an eyebrow at their bloodied and generally dishevelled states.

‘Clarke Griffin,’ Raven said. ‘Emergency stabbing, arrived by ambulance.’

The receptionist typed something into her computer, ‘ah yes. She was rushed straight into the O.R. She’d lost a lot of blood so there was no time to wait.’

Raven sobbed and Bellamy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, steering her to the seats indicated by the receptionist. Miller was restless and offered to go and grab them all a coffee whilst Bellamy cradled Raven to his side best as he could given the awkward chair arms.

She was sobbing in earnest now, not bothering to keep a lid on her bubbling emotions. ‘She can’t die on me, Bellamy. She just can’t. She’s my family.’

‘I know, Raven,’ Bellamy said, stroking her hair and shushing her softly. ‘She’s not going die. I promise. Princesses don’t die easily.’

Bellamy reassured Raven as best as he could although he was also trying to convince himself. Emergency… rushed to the O.R…. lost a lot of blood. The words swirled round and round in his head as he tried to think of anything but Clarke’s blood-stained hair and empty blues eyes.

‘She’s not going to die on us.’


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit filler-y but I wanted to get something out so yeah. I hope you enjoy it regardless.
> 
> There is more Bellarke interaction happening from now on, this chapter set that situation up a bit and hopefully you all enjoy it. I will hopefully get the next chapter out soon-ish as it is partially written already but I won't make any promises.
> 
> Again, if anyone would like to beta read this story and it's future chapters, please get in touch.
> 
> Otherwise, I really hope you enjoy this chapter and I'll speak to you guys again soon <3

Bellamy scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, rolling his neck to try and remove the crick – wincing as his spine cracked noisily. He had been sat in the hospital seat overnight and, safe to say, he missed his comfortable king-sized bed at home. Bellamy also regretted not having showered since the previous day. The blood covered clothes he had been wearing had been swapped out for a pair of pale-green scrubs, generously provided by the on duty nurses, but there had been no option of a shower.

Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Bellamy examined his surroundings. The fluorescent lighting gave the hospital an overly bright, almost harsh, appearance highlighting the haggard appearance of the overworked nurses and sleep-deprived doctors. Bellamy recognised the looks on their faces; it was the grim acceptance of another thankless day at work. It was a look he often wore himself. He knew he looked more fatigued than the majority of the doctors right now; seeing a colleague almost die would emotionally drain any normal person.

Speaking of the previous evening, Bellamy decided to check in on Raven and Clarke. The latter had returned from her emergency surgery the evening before, after enduring many hours in the operating theatre, and had been asleep in a private room since. Raven had leapt from her chair beside Bellamy as soon as the team had returned with Clarke and had taken it upon herself to guard the blonde from any further harm; she had taken up residence in the chair by Clarke’s bedside, clinging on to her best friend’s hand, attempting to will the blonde back into consciousness.

Peeking through the partially open door, Bellamy took in the scene within. Clarke was still pale, although nowhere near the deathly-white she had been the previous day, and was hooked up to various machines. The steady beeping of the heart monitor gave the room an almost serene feel, with both women’s breathing synchronised with the sounds. Raven was sprawled in the seat next to Griffin’s bed, uncomfortably folded to that her head reached the edge near Clarke’s hip. The rich colour of Raven’s hands made Clarke’s paleness even more evident. Bellamy was glad the Clarke had someone like Raven, a friend so loyal and loving, hell, the two women were as close as he and Octavia were. Reyes and Griffin were each other’s family.

Clearing his throat, Bellamy moved into the room as Raven stirred. She groaned quietly, rolling her shoulders before sitting up slowly in the chair. Releasing one of her hands from Clarke, she ran her hand through her tangled ponytail and glanced toward the monitors attached to her friend.

‘Why is she not awake yet?’ Raven asked quietly.

‘I don’t know,’ Bellamy replied, slipping into the room and shutting the door behind him. ‘You know what the doctor’s said: Griffin went through massive trauma and sustained blood loss; the operation went well but they had to give her lots of pain killers and things. We’ve got to give her time to come around on her own.’

‘Well, that fucking sucks.’

Bellamy snorted, ‘yeah, it does, Reyes, but we’ve got to listen to the doctors.’

He moved further into the room, squeezing Raven’s shoulder before perching himself on the small windowsill. He’d sent Miller home the night before with the promise that they would update him on the situation in the morning. Bellamy had also given Nathan the unenviable task of telling Collins (and to prevent Finn from coming down to the hospital) as well as the two lab techs Clarke worked with. The trauma team which operated on Clarke had managed to collect samples of blood and skin from under Clarke’s fingernails. Bellamy had sent these back to the precinct with Miller under strict orders that the samples needed testing as a priority.

Bellamy had elected to phone Chief Jaha himself; he was the senior officer on the team and he was expected to keep the higher-ups informed. During the brief phone call with his boss, the pair had discussed protection for Clarke, now that it was clear the M.E. was a specific target it was important that she was safe. Jaha had promised to look into the available safe houses and assign Clarke a protection officer for when she woke up. Bellamy knew the Princess would be pissed at what she would see as ‘interference’ but Bellamy was willing to ignore her complaints if it meant she was safe.

Bellamy and Raven sat in silence, watching Clarke breathe slowly, waiting for any flicker of consciousness from the petite blonde. Occasionally, they would notice her eyelids flutter, and each time Raven would grasp her hand more tightly, but Clarke showed no signs of rousing. She continued breathing in the same steady rhythm even as a firm knock rang out from the door way.

A young, fresh-faced doctor emerged in the doorway, bright smile in place and clipboard in hand.

‘Hi. May I come in?’ she asked politely, directing her question at Bellamy.

‘Of course,’ Bellamy said, waving a hand to invite her in.

‘I am Dr Vie, one of the on call doctors here. I’ve just come to do a quick check up on Miss Griffin here if that’s okay with you two?’

‘Sure doctor,’ Raven said, starting to stand. ‘Do you want us to wait outside?’

‘No, no,’ Maya said. ‘I’m more than happy for you both to stay here for now. It’s just a quick check, nothing invasive.’

Raven moved away from Clarke’s side to lean on the wall beside Bellamy as the doctor got to work. Dr Vie – ‘please, call me Maya’ – read several numbers on Clarke’s monitor, noting each down on the chart in her hand. Once Maya was satisfied with her notes, she fiddled with the controls on Clarke’s drip before starting to pull the sheet from Clarke’s torso.

‘I’ve just adjusted one of her pain killers to see if we can get her to wake up slightly quicker,’ Maya explained. ‘Now I’m just going to double check her stitches and I’ll be all done.’

Returning her attention to her patient, Maya drew Clarke’s gown up, revealing a large square patch of white gauze taped across her abdomen. The clean fabric stretched from Clarke’s right hip, reaching almost the whole way across to her left hip. The covering stopped a couple of inches short of Clarke’s left side with the uncovered skin – much to Bellamy’s surprise – baring a small tattoo: a small astronaut.

‘We’ve got matching tattoos,’ Raven said, noticing Bellamy’s gaze. ‘Private joke we decided to make permanent.’

Bellamy just raised his eyebrows, he’d ask more about that later.

Dr Vie continued her examination, slowly peeling back the gauze to reveal two long rows of black stitches. The longer cut – nearer the centre of Clarke’s abdomen – was an angry red and was at least the length of Bellamy’s hand. The surrounding area was a blushing pink making the row of stiches – 17, Bellamy counted – more evident. The smaller cut was offset to Clarke’s right side and was held together by 11 stitches. There was nothing pretty about either of the wounds, just angry blemishes on the smooth expanse of Clarke’s stomach, but they were neatly closed.

‘The wounds look good,’ Maya said. ‘They do, I promise,’ she defended, noticing Bellamy’s disbelieving look. ‘Remember, these were only sutured yesterday, after surgery through the larger wound to prevent further internal bleeding. They will heal well and scarring should be minimal. She’ll be back in bikinis in no time!’

Bellamy was hit with a sudden, and unexpected, mental image of Griffin in a bikini, lazing on a beach, drink in hand. It wasn’t an altogether unpleasant image but it wasn’t really what he should be focussing on right now.

Snapping his focus back to Dr Vie, he caught the end of her speech, ‘… should wake up soon. There’s nothing more we can do until she is conscious but I’m happy to say she’s doing well. The internal bleeding was definitely stopped and the wounds are clean. Miss Griffin should be back to normal in no time, she’ll only leave here with some painkillers and a recommendation to look after herself.’

Bellamy and Raven both snorted. ‘I’m not sure Clarke has ever looked after herself,’ Raven said. ‘Everyone else, yes, but I’m pretty sure she’s bottom of her own list.’

‘Well,’ Maya smiled, ‘I’m going to trust you two to make sure she learns to relax.’

Shaking Bellamy and Raven’s hands, Dr Vie disappeared out of the room, leaving the pair alone again with an unconscious Clarke and a steadily beeping machine. Raven settled back into the bedside chair as Bellamy leaned back on the windowsill, crossing his ankles as he did so.

‘Might as well get comfortable,’ he thought. ‘We’re going to be here a while.’

 

* * *

 

Miller sighed deeply. He was back at the precinct, trying to continue working on the case but was finding it impossible to focus. There were several reasons for this: 1) his friend had been stabbed the night before and was currently in hospital; 2) he hadn’t had his second cup of coffee yet and 3) Finn was pissing him off.

Nathan was normally unflappable. It took a lot to get him ruffled but, holy hell, Finn was pressing all of his buttons today. First off, Finn was pissed that they had ‘left him out’ of the previous night’s events and that he was last to be told that Clarke was in hospital; and now that he did know, he was doubly pissed that Miller wouldn’t let him go to the hospital.

‘Clarke doesn’t need you there, Finn,’ Miller said, exasperated. ‘Raven and Bellamy are there and she’s unconscious now anyway. You’re more help here, focussing on the case.’

‘I’m closer to her than Bellamy is,’ Finn argued.

‘The fuck you are,’ Nathan replied heatedly before sighing. ‘Just, get on with some work Finn. Bellamy will ring us with an update soon.’

Finn was now working in his corner, muttering darkly and thumping his fingers on his keyboard. Miller knew he was trying to make himself heard but he was creating an impossible environment for Nathan – who was battling a headache – to work in. Miller was slowly but surely reaching the end of his tether.

The end of his tether was reached abruptly when, after clicking to open his emails, Miller’s computer froze before dissolving into the blue screen of death. Luckily, he hadn’t been doing anything that couldn’t be recovered, but the inconvenience was enough to snap Nathan’s temper into action.

‘Fuck it,’ Miller said, roughly shoving his chair back from his desk. ‘I’m going down to see Monty and Jasper and see if they have any results from the blood from Clarke’s fingernails.’

Miller strode out of the office quickly, slamming the door before Finn could follow him. He stabbed at the lift button, thankful when the door opened immediately. He entered the lift before letting out a big sigh and counting to 10, reining in his temper before descending to the lab below.

 

* * *

 

Clarke awoke slowly. She could hear a quiet beeping, and at least one person breathing heavily. Silently she assessed herself before opening her eyes: there was definitely a drip in her arm, gauze on her abdomen and someone with a death grip on her left hand.

Blinking slowly in the harsh hospital lighting, Clarke gradually opened her eyes. Glancing down at the hand’s around hers, Clarke saw Raven asleep in the chair next to her bed. She was dressed in pale-green scrubs, hair piled up on top of her head and make-up partially worn off. Evidently Raven hadn’t been home since Clarke was admitted to hospital – however long ago that was.

Stroking her thumb gently along Raven’s hand, Clarke attempted to wake her friend gently. Just as Raven began to stir, the door to her room opened quietly emitting Bellamy into the room. He held a steaming cup in either hand and two packets of crisps dangled from his mouth. Clarke smiled slightly as she caught his eye, attempting to shuffle herself into a sitting position.

Gasping as a ripple of pain shot across her abdomen, Clarke immediately regretted moving. Raven awoke instantly and was standing at Clarke’s side, easing her arm under her blonde friend’s shoulders to help support Clarke’s weight.

‘You’re supposed to be taking it easy, Princess,’ Bellamy said, standing at the end of the bed, crisp packets and cups deposited on the bedside table. ‘Your doctor trusted us to prevent you from hurting yourself further.’

‘So far, you’re a failure then, Detective,’ Clarke bit back, turning to smile at Raven. ‘Thank you for looking after me, Raven.’

Raven smiled back, depositing Clarke gently in a sitting position and grabbing a cup from the table. She took a long drink of the steaming liquid and moaned, ‘good god, I needed that.’

Clarke and Bellamy laughed, Clarke wincing as the movement tugged on her stomach.

‘So,’ Clarke started, ‘someone catch me up. I’m missing some of last night.’

‘Well, after you and I went back to your flat, an unknown assailant attacked you, stabbing you twice,’ Raven said softly, taking Clarke’s hand in hers again. ‘Stabbed you twice. One wound also resulted in some internal bleeding and you lost a lot of blood. I thought you were going to die.’

Clarke reached up and stroked Raven’s hair gently, ‘hey, hey, it’s okay. I didn’t die, did I?’

Bellamy took over as Raven took a shaky sip from her coffee. ‘Luckily we got you to hospital pretty fast so they managed to patch you up and pump you full of some stranger’s blood.’ Bellamy snorted at Clarke’s incredulous expression, ‘anyway, you’ve been out since yesterday, so about 14 hours maybe. Dr Vie says your wounds are looking good and the internal bleeding has stopped.’

‘So I’m just about okay then?’ Clarke asked. ‘See, Raven, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.’

Raven laughed whilst Bellamy just rolled his eyes.

‘Wish we could get rid of Bellamy that easily though, eh?’ Clarke said, nudging Raven’s shoulder.

‘After I carried you to the ambulance, Princess? You wound me, Griffin,’ Bellamy’s eyes crinkled as he responded to Clarke’s mocking tone. ‘I think I like you better when you were asleep.’

Clarke laughed, wincing again when she felt her stitches pull. ‘I have got to remember that movement hurts. No more making me laugh, either of you.’

‘No promises here, Princess,’ Bellamy said, taking his cup from the table. ‘I’ll leave you two alone for a minute and go and find the doctor.’

Bellamy backed out of the room as Clarke turned her attention back to Raven. She reached around her best friend with one arm, awkwardly hugging her as Raven returned the gestured softly.

‘So,’ Clarke said, slowly extricating herself from the hug. ‘When can I go back to work? When can I go back home?’

Raven shifted nervously before replying, ‘well, returning to work depends on what the doctor says.’

‘And going home?’ Clarke persisted.

‘Eh, well, Jaha has decided you deserve a personal protection officer’ – Clarke rolled her eyes – ‘and should be put into a temporary safe house, just until the end of the case.’

Clarke started to raise herself up before grimacing and sinking back down in bed, determined to get her point across she continued despite the pain, ‘Raven, I don’t need protection – I just want to go home.’

‘It’s not up to me Clarke,’ Raven said, placatingly. ‘Jaha has decided it and it’s already organised. Besides, I’m not going to argue with anything that’s going to keep you out of harm’s way.’

‘But Raven,’ Clarke whined.

‘No Clarke. End of discussion. You’re going to stay in the safe house.’

‘Oh good, so you told her about the situation,’ Bellamy said, returning to the room. ‘I was worried she was going to be mad when I told her that Jaha assigned me as her protection officer.’

‘HE WHAT?!’ Clarke shouted. Raven winced in the seat next to her. ‘Jaha has officially gone mad. How is Blake going to protect me from anything?’

‘Oi!’ Bellamy cut Clarke off. ‘This wasn’t my first choice either but all the protection officers are busy with that delegation and all the safe houses are full.’

‘Which safe house am I going to be using if all of the safe houses are full?’

Raven gave Bellamy a knowing glance, not unseen by Clarke.

‘Raven,’ Clarke said, looking her friend directly in the eye, ‘which safe house am I staying in?’

Bellamy rubbed his neck with his hand as Raven dropped Clarke’s gaze.

‘You’ve been assigned to Bellamy’s house,’ Raven said quietly.

Clarke sighed, ‘you’ve got to be kidding me.’

‘Nope,’ Bellamy said, popping the ‘p’ sound triumphantly. ‘You’re coming home with me.’

‘I’m going to kill him, Raven. I’m actually going to kill him.’

Raven and Bellamy both laughed heartily at the determination on Clarke’s face, completely at odds with her weakened appearance surrounded by hospital sheets.

‘Just sit quietly, Princess. The nice doctor is going to come and speak to you soon.’

Bellamy sniggered at Raven’s empty paper cup was pathetically hurled towards his head.

‘Fuck you, Blake.’


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke get's to go home, almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, it's me, i'm back with a new chapter only like 6 months after I should have had it done. I was genuinely going to abandon this fic and try and apologise in some way and then I realised that the best apology would be to just get the damn chapter done and write what I can. I apologise for the wait for this chapter, and for how disappointing it is but anyway, it's here and yeah. 
> 
> comments/criticism/kudos are always appreciated so fire away!

Dr Vie was efficient, Clarke decided. Efficient and chatty. Dr Vie – Maya to her friends apparently – had a heart-shaped face and an easy smile. Her examination gave Clarke the chance to drift off in thought – she had concluded that Jaha was definitely mad and would probably benefit from some medical treatment of his own. How could he think that assigning Detective Blake to her was a sensible idea.

‘How many people have murdered their protection detail?,’ she wondered to herself silently. She was hoping that she wouldn’t add to that statistic although, in her current state, it’d be more likely that Bellamy would murder her before she could do any damage to him. She sighed and tuned back into what her far-too-cheery doctor was saying.

‘It’ll be several days of complete bed rest, followed by at least a month – yes a month,’ Dr Vie’s tone hardened at Clarke’s disbelieving look, ‘of desk duty before you start any exercise or field work. Your abdominal wall has been severely injured and, if you’re not careful, the internal stitches could tear and you’d end up here on our operating table.’

Clarke held up her hands in mock surrender, ‘I promise I’ll be good, Doctor!’

Bellamy scoffed softly at that, so Clarke glared sharply at him, ‘You can shut it, Blake.’

‘Hey!’ Bellamy responded, ‘remember who’s going to be keeping you alive, Princess.’

Rolling her eyes Clarke took the pile of pill boxes and paperwork Dr Vie offered to her and nodded at the doctor’s parting instructions, ‘take 2 painkillers 4 times a day, 2 antibiotics 3 times a day and do your prescribed exercises twice a day.’

After Dr Vie had left the room, Clarke began the slow process of getting dressed – promptly telling Detective Blake to fuck off when he offered his ‘assistance’ as Raven laughed heartily.

‘You’re going to have to learn to get along with him sometime,’ Raven chastised as she helped Clarke into her clothes (‘who knew t-shirts could be such a fucking pain?’). ‘You two are going to be spending a lot of time together from now on, it’d be better if you both came out of the experience with all limbs intact. Plus he brought you the bear.’

Raven gestured to a giant purple teddy-bear taking up a seat in the corner of the room.

‘Apparently his name is Reginald,’ Raven laughed. ‘Octavia suggested that he bring you something, or so he says. I’d watch out if I were you though, I think Bellamy’s gotten a little attached.’

Clarke laughed and swatted gingerly at her friend, finally pulling on her jeans and sliding her feet into her trainers, ‘I’m sure the bear will get him more girls than his dazzling personality usually does! In other news, I’m definitely too injured to do my own laces.’ Clarke lifted her feet gingerly onto her friends lap, ‘help an old, injured lady out would ya?’

Raven returned Clarke’s smirk with a smile, ‘dumbass.’

Finally it was time to go, the three of them – Bellamy and Raven flanking Clarke – descended to the parking bay together. They wandered to Raven and Bellamy’s cars slowly, subtly-but-not-so-subtly adjusting their speed to allow Clarke to take it slow. Bellamy strode ahead as they approached his car, opening his boot to throw Clarke’s bloodied clothes (already labelled and bagged in evidence bags) and half the pharmacy’s pills in. Clarke still had Reginald in her arms.

‘Come on you!,’ he called back towards the two women. ‘I’ve not got all night. Some of us still have to go to work tomorrow!’

Clarke gave him a two-fingered salute as he slid into his car before turning back to her friend.

‘I guess I’ll see you soon, then. Go home and get some sleep, Raven.’

‘Yes, boss!,’ Raven replied sarcasticly. ‘How about you take your own advice for once?’

‘I’ll try my best,’ Clarke said, reaching over to hug her friend gently, before turning towards Detective Blake’s car.

‘Oh,’ came Raven’s voice from behind her, ‘and don’t worry, we’re definitely going to find the bastard that did this to you.’

* * *

Clarke got out of Bellamy’s car gingerly, attempting to extract herself without pulling at her stitches. Surprisingly, the care ride from the hospital hadn’t been horrible. In fact, Clarke startled, it has almost been fun. Bellamy had crooned along to the classic rock radio station; his voice gravelly and deep and, Clarke winced, strangely soothing. Eventually she’d joined in too, her voice rough from little-use but still lyrical and soft. They’d complimented each other in a weird, off-key sort of way.

The karaoke singing had sped the journey along and also prevented any arguments, a win-win for everyone. Bellamy realised that they hadn’t fought the whole journey – which must be some sort of record for them – but didn’t want to comment on is lest he ruin the moment. Neither of them were convinced the calm would last but they were well used to the storm that normally followed.

Bellamy clambered out of the car after Clarke, stopping momentarily to grab the evidence bags and medicine from his boot before leading the way to his front door. It was faded blue, paint chipping away in the corners, with a copper ‘24’ screwed near the top.

Bellamy opened the door wide, giving Clarke her first glance into his home. From what she could see, the house was cosy. It wasn’t big or small but more than adequate for a single man, minimally decorated with sparse decoration: mostly pictures featuring Bellamy and a dark haired girl (presumably Octavia, Clarke thought) intermingled with some items that could have come from ancient Greece or Rome or even Africa. Bellamy’s home would need some further investigation but, Clarke supposed, she’d have plenty of time for that.

She followed Bellamy through the small corridor, past a room with two large couches, and a kitchen, ending up in a large room containing a king-sized bed and two large bookcases, groaning under the weight of the collection of books held there. Clarke noticed that the books – all different shapes and sizes – were in various states of disrepair. Several were so faded that there was no way to read the spines, others were held together by elastic bands.

‘Why are we in your bedroom, Detective Blake?’

‘For a delightful time of course, Griffin,’ Bellamy replied, smirking over his shoulder at her. ‘You’ll be sleeping in here for the weekend. I would have given you the spare bedroom but Octavia’s home for the weekend and I’m not sure you’d want to share with her and whoever she’s brought home this weekend. Although I’m sure that it’d be very cosy.’

Clarke snorted, ‘not sure a threesome would be following doctor’s orders.’

Bellamy laughed back, ‘I’m sure Dr Vie would be both impressed and disappointed if that was the way your tore open your stitches. Anyway, get yourself settled, bathroom’s back down the hall and we passed the kitchen so you know where that is. If you need anything just shout, I’m sure Octavia will come running!’

‘Some protection officer you are!’ Clarke scoffed.

Bellamy laughed as he backed out of the room, ‘make yourself at home! I’ll be on the couch.’

Normally, Clarke would have gone after him to berate him and then take the couch – it was Bellamy’s bed after all. It didn’t seem fair that she had ousted him to the couch but, in all honesty, she was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to dive into the bed in front of her. Well, not literally dive. Climb in very gently and carefully. However she got there, Clarke wanted to be in the bed and be in it now.

As quickly as she could, Clarke shucked off her clothes, piling them at the side of the bed with the purple teddy bear and pulled on one of her other t-shirts Raven had packed for her. She lifted the duvet and snuck into the bed, triggering a creaky spring near the left hand side.

‘Don’t drool on my pillow, Princess.’

‘Fuck off, Bellamy!’ she replied before snuggling deep into the pillows.

* * *

‘Good morning, Griffin!’ Bellamy yelled as he burst into the room, quickly grabbing the pillow that had been thrown waywardly towards him. ‘Not a morning person I see?’

Clarke grunted and buried her head deeper into the pillows which – annoyingly – smelled like Bellamy and – even more annoyingly – it was very comforting. She’d not slept this well in ages.

‘You know,’ Bellamy continued, ‘there is a perfectly good gun in the top drawer if you have to resort to using weaponry.’

‘That perfectly good gun would only be perfectly good if I knew how to use the damn thing,’ Clarke grumbled.

‘Well, Princess, I know the first skill we’re going to have to teach you during this protection detail.’

Clarke stuck her hand out from under the duvet and gave a thumb’s up vaguely towards Bellamy’s direction. ‘Super.’

Bellamy chuckled. The floorboards creaked, assuming Detective Blake had left the room, Clarke began to snuggle back under the duvet when it was whisked away from her grasp.

‘Up and at’em, Griffin. We’ve not got all day,’ Bellamy wrapped his duvet over his shoulders and wandered away down the hall. ‘Plus, you’d better get through here if you want any pancakes before Octavia and I eat them all!’

Clarke groaned and muttered a string of curses into the pillow before prising herself out of bed because, god dammit, those pancakes did smell amazing.

* * *

After a lovely if slightly awkward breakfast - Octavia had brought her boyfriend Lincoln home the night before and the boyfriend/big brother meeting had certainly made things interesting (especially since Bellamy recognised Lincoln from some of the CCTV footage they'd been watching) – the pair set off for the precinct.

'How do you function at this hour Bellamy?' Clarke asked exasperated, throwing her hands in the air. 'The sun's barely risen yet.'

Bellamy ignored her and continued singing along with the Queen song playing over the radio. Their early departure from the house meant that Bellamy and Clarke arrived at the precinct way before any of the rest of the team, so they made their way down to the shooting range for some of Bellamy's 'first class teaching'. They reached the bottom of the metal stairwell that led down to the shooting range and Bellamy quickly organised a couple of weapons for them before leading Clarke through to the range.

A set of white targets were hung up against the far wall, opposite a number of empty booths. Each wall of each booth held two pairs of black ear guards and two pairs of equally fashionable safety glasses. Bellamy led Clarke to the furthest booth and gestured for her to pick up a pair of ear guards.

'Right Princess, time for your very first lesson. Let's teach you how to shoot!' Bellamy grinned; Clarke had to do a double-take at his child like expression.

Bellamy quickly covered the basics before handing the gun to Clarke and moving to allow her into the centre of the booth. She raised the weapon and stood side on to the target, taking a deep breath she cocked the gun and gently squeezed the trigger. The bullet sped out of the gun, hitting the wall at the far end of the room with a loud thud. Clarke did not see where it had landed however as the recoil from the gun had sent her stumbling backwards, directly into the muscled chest of Bellamy. Blushing slightly she shuffled away from his heat and removed her ear guards, slowly Clarke looked up to see a broad grin across Bellamy's face.

'Recoils a bit of a bitch,' Bellamy said, taking the gun from her hands, 'watch and learn, Princess.'

Stepping around Clarke, Bellamy lined up his shot. Standing square on with his target he raised his gun. Just then, out of the corner of his eye he saw Clarke wink, throwing his shot off completely. Removing his ear guards he angrily turned to face her but before he could start lecturing her on gun safety she started laughing. A genuine, throaty laugh.

'I'm still waiting,' Clarke said, gasping out between her giggles.

'You want to learn this or not?' said Bellamy. He was struggling to keep a straight face but he would not let such an underhand tactic make him smile.

'Of course I do, it's just fun to see you flustered.'

Bellamy lined up his shot once more, finally landing a bullet in the target. He handed that gun back to Clarke and gently adjusted her position so that she was in the correct shooting stance. Clarke took a couple more shots, still not wonderfully accurate but now, at least, hitting the target.

Once the gun was out of bullets Clarke turned mockingly towards Bellamy and, even though her finger removed from the trigger of the gun, the view down the barrel was a little disconcerting. Releasing the gun with one hand she reached into her jeans pocket and withdrew something made of dark leather and gold metal. Shock jolted through him when he realised she was holding his police badge.

'When did you get that?' he sputtered.

'I stole it off your belt when you were demonstrating earlier,' Clarke replied, smiling coyly up at him. 'It seems like you were a bit distracted.'

Bellamy grinned back at her and Clarke felt something akin to butterflies in her stomach – Bellamy rarely genuinely smiled so she felt as if she'd earned some sort of reward. He took a step closer to her and the butterflies grew into hummingbirds, flipping her stomach repeatedly.

* * *

Before she could blink, Bellamy had grabbed her wrist with one hand snatching the gun away from her as he spun her back into his chest. She felt his warmth along the length of her back and when she took a deep breath, all she could smell was him – a heady mix of gunpowder, coffee and spearmint chewing gum. The movement of arm brought her back to the moment, as it snaked its way across her abdomen and plucked his police badge from her hand.

'Thanks for holding onto this for me Princess,' Bellamy breathed in her ear. 'Now we've just got to work on your reflexes. You're just too easy to catch.'

Realising the position they were in Bellamy released Clarke’s wrist and slid his badge back onto his belt.

Clearing his throat Bellamy said, 'well, Princess, that was successful. Who knew you were such a good student?' A brief, crooked smile graced his freckled face.

'Obviously you're just a great teacher. I'll see you later Bellamy.'

'I think you'll find I'm the best teacher,' Bellamy replied, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

'And such a delicate ego too,' Clarke scoffed as she left the room.

Bellamy looked after her, shaking his head slightly. Since when was he so affected by Clarke?


End file.
